Between the Soil & the Sky
by xNimCee
Summary: In between dreams and reality, there is a place where happiness lies. One must not make the mistake of relying on one or the other. As the ultimate daydreamer, Bella Swan learns this lesson the hard way. A lesson in the form of Edward Cullen, her new best friend. AH, OOC, M
1. At First Sight

**A/N:** All my love to **Pinkaquaclouds** for beta-ing this thing _over and over and over_ again. I sent this girl like a bazillion versions of these chapters and she hasn't flounced me (yet). Also a huge thank you to **lyleslove294** for being awesome and pre-reading, even though she's a new mommy and busy as hell. Love you ladies!

And happy birthday, Pink.

**Disclaimer:** Twilight belongs to SM; I'm messing with her characters because it's fun.

_This story is dedicated to anyone that has had to learn a valuable lesson. Especially those of you that had to learn it the hard way._

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><p><em><strong>Between the Soil &amp; the Sky<strong>_

**Chapter 1: At First Sight**

_10/7/06_

_It's my first day at our new house! I'm sitting on the porch swing. The view from here isn't very impressive._

Bella Swan adjusts the journal on her lap and glances up to observe her surroundings. Tapping her purple gel pen against the page, she narrows her eyes and searches the crevices of her brain for the right words to describe what she sees.

Fall leaves are scattered along the sidewalk, stuck to the dampened ground resulting from the recent rainfall. The weather and the environment are far from what she's used to. No, all of this rain and chill is nothing close to what Bella experienced during the entirety of her life in Phoenix. Fifteen years is a long time, after all.

It's easy enough to be able to describe the cheery yellow house that sits to the right of hers. The colorful garden in front of it is a rare sight for Forks. Bella, having yet to meet her neighbors, attempts to guess about its inhabitants.

She imagines a small family with two kids and a dog, but then her mind drifts to other possibilities.

Perhaps it's a young bachelor, lonely and elusive, someone who has a mysterious job and mysterious hobbies.

Or maybe it's an elderly couple, one with over fifty years worth of a love story to tell. Bella hopes that's true. She likes love stories.

Bella's meandering thoughts are interrupted by the stench of cigarette smoke. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she looks for the source and finds it immediately.

Sitting on the porch of the black and white house to Bella's left is a teenage girl around her age. Black hair streaked with purple highlights and dressed in clothing of the dark variety, she sits with her elbows on her knees and a cigarette dangling from in between her small fingers.

Intrigued by this neighbor, Bella watches quietly from her spot. The stench of the smoke continues to drift in her direction and she's unable to suppress a cough.

The sound gets the attention of the strange girl, and Bella finds herself smiling in a manner that she hopes looks friendly enough.

The two girls stare at each other, both of them waiting for the other to say or do something. One of them is completely nonchalant, smoking away, while the other is plastering on a smile that she hopes looks friendly.

Bella doesn't move, but keeps the smile etched on her face in the hopes that the neighbor will smile back or do _something_ other than watch her.

After a moment and another puff of smoke, the dark haired girl speaks up, raising her voice to be heard over the short distance between their houses.

"You look constipated."

Bella's smile falls as she stares at the girl in surprise. The dark haired girl laughs, though not unkindly.

"Come here," she says, jerking her head.

Bella takes a moment to decide whether or not that would be a good idea. This girl looks like she's from the wrong side of the tracks, but that only makes Bella want to speak to her even more. Besides, if she does get dragged into the black and white house against her will, her parents would be close enough to hear her screams.

Shaking her head at her wild imagination, Bella gets to her feet and momentarily strains her ears. She can hear her parents in the living room, dragging furniture around on the hardwood. They won't miss her.

Besides, she doesn't want to be the shy, introverted girl she was in Phoenix. Being more sociable would be a good thing.

Leaving her journal on the swing, Bella skips down her porch steps and approaches the neighboring ones.

"Nice socks," the neighbor comments once Bella is within talking distance.

Bella looks down at her knee-highs, which are purple with white and black stars printed on them. She's paired them with a black skirt and a white hoodie covered in purple polka dots.

"Thanks," Bella says quietly. "I like colors…" She wants to smack herself for the mundane comment.

"I don't," the girl responds, monotone.

Bella chuckles nervously. "Yeah, I figured."

The two girls smile at each other, and Bella holds her breath against the secondhand smoke.

"I'm Alice," the dark haired girl says, but she doesn't hold out either of her fingerless glove covered hands.

"I'm Bella."

"You look like a Bella."

"You don't look like an Alice."

"My real first name is Mary, but let's just keep that between us."

"You _definitely _don't look like a Mary."

Alice laughs. "You can say that again. So, you goin' to Forks High?"

"I think so."

"Where ya from?"

"Phoenix."

Alice nods to herself and Bella reaches up to twirl the stud in her ear, a nervous habit of hers.

"What happened to Mr Swan?" Alice asks, nodding towards Bella's new home. "Woke up one day and they were moving stuff out."

"Oh, that was my grandfather," Bella says quietly, staring at her feet. "He passed away a little while ago and left the house to my dad. I guess my parents just wanted to try out small town life… again."

Alice snorts. "They're not missing anything special, that's for damn sure. Forks is a shithole. Sorry to hear that he passed. He didn't like me very much, but his rants were entertaining."

Bella doesn't know what to say. She didn't know her grandfather very well, and her memories of him are vague, dating back to her early childhood.

"Bella?"

Bella's mother's voice makes her jump and glance back to her own home, the white and blue one right in the middle.

"I gotta go," Bella says ruefully.

Alice nods indifferently. "See ya around."

"Who's that?" Bella's mother, Renee, asks once Bella is back on her own porch. She's very pretty, with delicate features and blue eyes, though all is downplayed by her disapproving frown.

"That's Alice," Bella says, keeping her tone light. She knows what her mother is doing with her piercing blue eyes: judging.

"She doesn't look very friendly," Renee mutters, pursing her lips.

"She's actually really nice," Bella argues, retrieving her journal from the porch swing and clutching it to her chest. "I think we go to the same school."

Renee's sharp eyes cut to Bella's face, her thin brows furrowing with worry. "You need to be careful who you make friends with, honey," she chides. "I don't like the looks of that girl, and you really shouldn't be around her when she's committing slow suicide."

Bella suppresses a dramatic sigh, irritated at her parents' overprotective tendencies. Dictating who she should and should not associate with has always been one of her mother's most annoying habits.

"It's no big deal." Bella tries to pacify her mother by changing the topic. "Are you guys done with the sofas?" She tactfully pushes herself into the house, where her father lounges on a couch.

"Where'd you run off to?" he asks.

"Socializing with neighbors," Bella responds.

"Anyone interesting?" He only sounds half interested, so Bella doesn't try to engage the taciturn man in conversation.

"The girl next door is my age," she says as she heads for the stairs.

"And she smokes," Renee adds on her way to the kitchen. "Bad influence!"

"You don't even know her, Mom," Bella sighs. She exchanges a wide-eyed, exasperated look with her father. If there's anyone that knows her mother's tendency to judge harshly, it's Charlie.

"Just be careful, Bells," Charlie advises. "Not everyone around here is going to be as friendly as you."

Bella's well aware of the wisdom behind her father's words, but whether or not she's willing to heed them is another story.

No, she'd much prefer to learn certain lessons on her own.

* * *

><p>The rest of the weekend is quick on the clock. The Swans are eager to settle into their new home and familiarize themselves with Forks.<p>

On Sunday, the family climbs into the car and drives around town. Bella is overwhelmed by the stark contrast between Forks and her native Arizona. The damp streets and the seemingly perpetual greenery is a big change from the dusty, constantly dry environment of her hometown in Phoenix.

Still, Bella can't help but love Forks. Even growing up where she did, she never became fond of the sun and the sweltering heat. There's something about the muggy and cool atmosphere of her new town that she's quickly fallen in love with.

Bella finds herself gazing out the window of the car, admiring the puddles on the streets and the raindrop-embellished store signs. Her mind begins putting together a plot for a short story, perhaps a mystery or a paranormal thriller. It could be a murder mystery, or maybe a story about zombies or werewolves or-

"Look, Bella, there's your school," Renee's voice pulls Bella away from her thoughts and she quickly makes a mental note to start plotting later.

Instead, she follows her mother's finger, pointed at the red brick building that occupies most of the block.

Forks High School is smaller than Bella's high school in Phoenix, but it looks significantly friendlier. Of course, the lack of metal detectors and chain link fences contributes to that fact.

No, Bella just likes the color of the brick and how the green of the surrounding trees provides a nice contrast. She finds the dull green and red to be oddly romantic, and immediately the murder mystery in her mind becomes a murder mystery with a love story.

She thinks that Forks is going to be inspirational.

Later that evening, Bella is in the kitchen with her mother, both of them attempting to get the place as clean as possible while Charlie has gone to visit the logging company where he'll be working as an accountant. He has insisted on disinfecting every surface, even though the place is already relatively clean, and will not be satisfied until everything is up to par.

Bella's thoughts are far away from Forks as she methodically wipes down dishes before placing them in the cabinets. Renee mumbles to herself as she wipes down every appliance and surface, scrubbing diligently.

Their hard work is interrupting by the rich, reverberating sound of the unfamiliar doorbell.

"Honey, could you go see who that is?" Renee asks distractedly. She's glaring at a stubborn stain on the counter that doesn't want to surrender to her rag. "My hands are full."

Bella drops her own rag in an instant, bolting for the living room.

"Look through the peephole first!" Renee calls after her.

A beautiful, curvy woman with reddish hair stands on the other side of the door, her bright smile catching Bella off guard. Her slender fingers are clutching a large casserole dish and friendliness seems to be emanating off of her in waves.

"Hi," she says, green eyes glancing over Bella's shoulder and into the house. "Are your parents home?"

"My mom is," Bella says, shyness tainting her smile. The breeze carries in the woman's scent, the scent of cinnamon and lavender and warmth.

"I'm Esme," the woman says, briefly balancing the dish on one arm to shake Bella's hand. Her skin is soft. "I live next door, in the yellow house. Just thought I'd stop by and say hello, welcome you to town and whatnot."

"Nice to meet you," Bella responds, smiling. "Would you like me to take that for you?"

"Oh, sure," Esme says, handing over the casserole dish. "Careful, though, it's still very warm."

"Who's at the door, Bella?" Renee's footsteps echo behind Bella as she slinks away from the door. She watches as the two women greet each other before quietly slipping back into the kitchen.

The casserole gives off pleasant aromas as Bella places it on the counter. It makes her mouth water and reminds her of her empty stomach, causing it to protest loudly.

Bella hears the soft murmurs of her mother and Esme, and a moment later there's the sound of the door clicking shut.

"Atheists and hookers," Renee mutters, walking into the room with a frown on her face.

Bella bursts out laughing. "Mom?"

"Our neighbors," she sighs in frustration. She lifts the foil off of the top of the casserole dish and observes its contents with wariness before leaning down to give it a quick sniff.

"What about them?" Bella asks, staring at her mother in puzzlement. "Esme seemed nice."

Renee huffs, rummaging through a silverware drawer. "She may be nice, but… I don't know, I've never known anyone that was atheist before. It's disconcerting. And her husband is a _sexologist_." She whispers the word as though it were dirty. "Could there be a more inappropriate career?"

Bella groans internally. The topic is going in the direction of religion and Renee, being a devout Catholic, has more than enough to say about anyone that doesn't believe in the same. Though Bella and Charlie are nowhere near as religious as Renee, they like to humor her so as to not endure her wrath.

"That's not even the best part," Renee says. "I also caught a glimpse of that troubled young girl's mother, and boy did she give me an eyeful."

"Alice's mom?"

"According to Esme, she's a dancer in Port Angeles, but even dancers don't dress like street walkers. Esme said hello to her but she didn't even acknowledge her! Honestly, I feel like the gateway to Hell is around here somewhere."

Bella turns her back so her mother doesn't catch her rolling her eyes. There are times when her mother's judgmental attitude towards those that are different is too much to handle. The urge to shake her mother and yell at her to stop being so ignorant is always very prominent in Bella, though years of experience has taught her how to hold her tongue.

A few minutes later, Charlie comes home and Bella is grateful for the distraction. However, it's not long before Renee is filling him in on all the gossip she's derived.

Bella tries not to laugh at the wary, slightly frightened look on her father's face as he mother reiterates what she told Bella. Of course, now that Renee's speaking to her husband, she's more animated in the way she describes the hooker next door and the atheist sexologist's wife.

Charlie clears his throat uncomfortably once Renee is done with her tangent.

"Well," he says, stroking the graying stubble on his chin. "We'll try not to associate ourselves with them too much. Is that the casserole?"

Renee wrinkles her nose at the dish. "Yes. I'm hesitant to try it. Lord knows what they cook with."

_Oh, they're atheists so they must cook with pig's blood or goat hairs,_ Bella's thoughts are viciously sarcastic.

"I'm done," she says instead, drying her hands on a paper towel. She's eager to get out of the room; the negativity her mother spews is thickening the air and making it difficult to breathe. "Anything else you need me to do?"

Renee purses her lips and looks around. "I think we're almost done. Charlie, will you help me take these boxes to the garage? Bella, why don't you warm up the leftovers from lunch?"

Bella sighs and nods, moving to the refrigerator as her parents move to the back door.

Renee pauses in the doorway. "Oh, and Bella? Throw away that casserole."

A second later, Bella is left in the silence of the kitchen. Once the leftovers from earlier in the day are in the oven, she sighs sadly at the food from next door.

Curiosity and the deep, usually hidden urge to rebel push her to pick up a fork.

With a cautionary glance out the window, she digs into the casserole and tastes it.

It's the most delicious thing she's ever eaten.

* * *

><p>Bella is glad to finally be left alone in her new room.<p>

It's not that big, but she adapts easily. The peach colored wallpaper is peeling and will have to be replaced immediately, and the hardwood floor could use a good polishing. Other than that, she's already comfortable.

What she loves the most is the window seat. There's really only one window in the room, but it's large and square and would let in a lot of sunlight if Forks favored the sun. Nevertheless, Bella plans on doing a lot of reading and writing from that very spot.

Grabbing her beloved backpack and a pillow from her bed, Bella sits down on the seat. It's not entirely comfortable, but the discomfort isn't something that a couple cute pillows can't fix.

Bella sits on her pillow and places the heavy backpack on her lap, unzipping it and revealing her most prized of possessions. She's got two of her journals, her fancy gel pens, her favorite young adult novel, and her entire nail polish collection.

Bella is aware of her slight obsession with nail polish, but she wasn't kidding when she told Alice that she likes colors. An advocate of self expression, she is quite fond of painting her nails a different color every week, and sometimes even every other day.

She pulls out her journal and pen again, ready to document this first moment on her window seat. For the first time since she arrived in Forks, she feels calm, serene, and completely at ease with the world. She savors the alone time in her new room, even if it is lacking in some furniture and still smells like rotting wood.

Bella glances out the window and is disappointed by the view.

A massive tree stands between her house and the yellow house, its branches and leaves blocking out most of the darkening sky. Some branches graze against the glass of her window, while the others gently tap the window directly across from hers.

Suddenly, the light in the window of the neighboring house turns on. From her seat, Bella can see part of a bedroom.

Dark blue walls.

An oak desk with an old-ish computer.

Part of a bookshelf, disorganized and overflowing.

A poster diagram of the human brain.

It's certainly a stark contrast to her own room, which so far only holds a lone bed and boxes of her other belongings.

A tall figure passes by the window, and Bella stiffens. She doesn't catch sight of a face, but the figure is definitely male. Black sweatshirt. Jeans.

Bella feels dirty watching, but her curiosity gets the best of her. This is obviously where Esme lives, but is that her husband, or does she have a son?

Bella watches as the guy next door flops down on the chair at the desk. He turns on the computer and leans back in the chair, fingers locked at the back of his head of messy reddish-brown hair.

She observes the broad shoulders and the pale fingers, though that's the only thing she's really able to take in before the guy leans too far back and ends up collapsing to the floor, out of view.

Bella squeaks in surprise and covers her mouth, holding back her laugh. The guy comes into view again, and this time she gets a frontal view.

His hair flops onto his forehead and he irritably pushes his square, dark rimmed glasses up his nose before brushing himself off. He doesn't notice the girl watching him from just a few feet away.

In a flash, he's sitting back in the chair, though he doesn't try leaning back again. Instead, he sits with his shoulders hunched, undoubtedly embarrassed at himself.

Bella giggles, intrigued by this character. He looks kind of like a nerd, though she doesn't want to label him as such without knowing him. Still, the glasses, clumsiness, and the poster of the brain do little to help his case.

Still, Bella can't help but feel an odd sense of warmth towards him. She wonders what his name is, and if he goes to the same school as her. He must be around her age, if not a little older.

Deciding that she's watched the boy long enough for it to become creepy, Bella tears her gaze away from the window and starts to organize her nail polish.

She looks through her collection and finds the perfect color for the week, especially since she'll be starting at a new school come tomorrow.

It's a nude shade, with just a tinge of pink, and it's called _At First Sight_.

She sits at the window seat, glancing one last time at her neighbor. He's tapping away at the computer now, shoulders hunched in apparent concentration.

It's odd, but Bella doesn't feel alone in this moment. With this stranger going about his business in his room, and she going about hers, she's experiencing an unusual sense of comfort.

Smiling slightly, Bella begins the process of removing the fading paint on her fingernails and applying the new color. Doing this focuses her mind and eases her worries, though her worries are usually far and few between.

For the next few minutes, the neighbors sit in a companionable silence that one of them doesn't know he is a part of.

After some time, when Bella is done with her fingernails and is moving on to her toes, the stranger next door stands up from his desk and stretches his long limbs.

Bella is oblivious to him now, completely absorbed in beautifying her cuticles. He turns and yawns, the yawn cut short when he catches sight of the girl in the window across from his.

He blinks at her, surprised, and then stares.

Bella's delicate brows are furrowed over her eyes as she gently and carefully applies the paint to her pinkie toe. Her tongue sticks out a little in concentration, a sight that draws the eyes of the young man.

He stands and watches her for another moment, knowing that she's the new neighbor. He wasn't expecting someone so young, let alone so pretty.

Realizing that he's watching her like a perverted peeping tom, he shakes his head and carefully steps away from the window.

Bella is done with her weekly ritual, and she carefully blows on her toes. She smiles at her feet and wiggles her toes, nodding in satisfaction at her work.

Absentmindedly, she glances out the window again.

Her neighbor's light is off, the blinds drawn.

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><p><strong>AN: **Talk to me, people.

I was going to link to the nail polish colors that the chapters are named after on my profile, but this website still hasn't sorted out the link issue so that's going to have to wait. If you're a nail polish fiend like me and want to look it up anyway, it's _At First Sight_ by OPI. Very pretty.

Come stalk me on Twitter. I like to chat. I'm** xNimCee** on there as well.

Updates should be weekly! I already have most of the story written so nothing should get in the way of updates.

That being said, you'll meet Edward next week. ;)


	2. Wandering Vine

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the support after the first chapter, guys! Definitely feeling the love, and basking in it since I might just be hated later on. ;)

Much love to my favorite ladies **Pinkaquaclouds** and **lyleslove294** for looking this over and making sure it wasn't stupid.

Now, say hello to Edward.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Wandering Vine<strong>

Monday morning brings with it the gray, gloomy weather that is typical of Forks. The darkest raincloud seems to hover above Forks High School, though those around it are oblivious to its presence. Teenagers huddle around each other in front of the building and in the parking lot, their jackets zipped up high and their boots wet with rain that's just a few minutes old.

Charlie Swan pulls up in front of the school, carefully watching his daughter's face as he puts the car in park.

Bella is staring out the window in silent unease, the nerves beginning to take over at the last second.

As she watches all the students, she forces herself to take a deep breath. It's like all the butterflies in the world now inhabit her stomach, fluttering maddeningly and coaxing nausea.

She reaches up and starts twisting the stud in her left ear, biting her lip. What if no one likes her? What if she doesn't make any friends? What if she embarrasses herself somehow? What if it's so obvious that she's new that people pick on her?

"You'll be fine, kiddo," Charlie says, patting her awkwardly on the knee.

Bella shrugs, suddenly wondering if she's dressed okay. The night before, she'd spent nearly an hour trying to put together the perfect outfit. Three piles of clothing and one big mess later, she finally settled on green colored jeans and a white and pink t-shirt. The ensemble is completed by a purple hoodie that matches her sneakers. It's a bit of an eyeful, but it's Bella.

"Well, go on," Charlie urges impatiently. "You don't want to be late, do you?"

Bella shakes her head and takes another deep breath, giving herself an internal pep talk.

_It's going to be okay._

_It's going to be okay._

_It's going to be better than okay; it's going to be __**awesome.**_

"You're making me late for work, Bella," Charlie sighs, and Bella throws the car door open.

"Sorry!" she squeaks. "Have a good day, Dad!"

"Don't forget to sanitize often," he reminds her before she shuts the door. "And avoid shaking hands unless necessary!"

The second the car pulls away, Bella slowly starts making her way to the front doors. She's self-conscious of every step that she takes, every glance that she makes, and every second that she spends trying not to look as anxious as she feels.

After she survives the long walk to the massive building, Bella easily locates the main office and gets her hands on her schedule, a map, and her locker number.

A bell rings shrilly and she feels her stomach twist.

Bella stands in the middle of the hallway, already lost. Hesitant to look at the map for fear that he newness will be painfully obvious, she opts to stand and pretend that she's looking for someone when, in fact, she's looking for the right way to go.

A couple people bump into her, glaring over their shoulders at the girl dumb enough to stop in the middle of a crowded hallway.

"Lost, neighbor?"

A voice speaks up from behind her and Bella turns, her shoulders sagging in relief when she sees the "troubled" girl next door.

"Alice!" Bella gasps.

Alice smirks and takes Bella's arm, pulling her toward the lockers and away from the center of the teenage chaos.

"Are you trying to get trampled?" Alice asks, one thin eyebrow raised. "Never stand in the middle of the hallway. You'll become a target like that." She snaps her fingers, a somber expression on her face. Thick eyeliner emphasizes the seriousness in her hazel eyes.

Bella nods, her own eyes wide and attentive. It's best if she has someone to guide her through her first day.

"Let me see your schedule," Alice demands, holding out her hand. It's not covered in a fingerless glove today.

Bella fumbles around in her bag and finds the beige colored card, handing it over to her new friend. "I think my first class is on this floor…"

Alice purses her red lips at the paper, shaking her head slightly. "This is one hell of a schedule for a sophomore. We have the same lunch hour, though. No classes. Come on, I'll show you where your Trig class is."

The girls walk down the hall in a companionable silence, and Bella can smell the lingering scent of cigarettes from Alice's clothes. It doesn't bother her, though it does remind her of her mother's warning to stay away.

Nevertheless, this is one thing Bella won't let her mother control. She gets to choose her own friends, and it's not like her parents have to know who she hangs out with.

"This is you," Alice says, stopping outside a door at the end of the hall. "When you go to your next class, take that staircase in the middle of the hall." She points one fingernail, painted in black. "Don't take any of the back ones. That's where people make out and give their boyfriends head."

"No back staircases, got it," Bella says, nodding.

Alice smirks. "I like your pants. See you at lunch."

She turns and walks away, ignoring the snide comments that come from a couple of seniors. They snicker at her, but she seems oblivious as she walks away with her head held high.

Bella frowns at the passing students, wondering about their bullying attitude towards Alice. One of them, a tall, lean, blue eyed young man with a shock of jet black hair, stares back at her, raising a brow and smiling slightly.

Flushing a little, mainly because he's so handsome, Bella ducks her head and enters the classroom just as the final bell rings.

She doesn't hear him chuckling behind her.

* * *

><p>Most of Bella's classes go by with ease. Her classmates seem friendly enough, though "friendly" by Bella's standards is anyone that isn't outwardly rude to her.<p>

Her level of optimism is at a decent level by the time her class before lunch, Biology, rolls around.

Bella gets to class earlier than she thought, and once she hands the new student slip to the teacher, Mr. Banner, she searches for a seat.

Her eyes land on a familiar head of hair, a unique copper color that she's only ever seen on one person.

Sitting in the back row, her neighbor from the yellow house has half his face hidden behind a book.

Bella smiles to herself, glad that she sees someone else she knows. Well, someone she _kind of_ knows.

Grinning, she walks over to the young man, who is slouched over in his seat with his glasses resting on the center of his nose.

Plopping down in the seat next to him, she smiles to herself and hopes that he'll take notice of her presence.

He doesn't.

Trying to be as discreet as possible, Bella tries to glance at the cover of his book. Seeing that his long, pale fingers are covering the title, she sits back in her chair and decides to examine him instead.

He's tall, that much is certain. He's got legs that could go on for days, stretched out under the seat in front of him. Bella takes in the dark blue sweatshirt and the jeans, appreciating his physique. Her eyes land on his lips, how they're pursed in a concentrated pout as he reads.

He's actually pretty easy on the eyes, she decides. A little too pale and slightly dorky, but he's fairly attractive nonetheless.

The light streaming in from the window next to them bounces off his hair, a color that reminds Bella of burnt embers in a fireplace.

Finally, Bella's subject of observation stops reading with a sigh. He nods to himself and then leans back in the chair, pushing his glasses up.

Then, he stiffens. It appears that he can feel her eyes on him, and he can probably even see her smiling at him from his periphery.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye, keeping absolutely still as though he's the prey to her predator.

After a beat, he finally turns his head.

Bella sees the color of his eyes for the first time; deep, vibrant green, the color of dampened leaves.

It reminds her of one of her most favorite nail polish colors- a rich viridian called _Wandering Vine_.

The boy raises his brows so that they disappear into the bronze flop on his forehead. There's recognition in his eyes, though most of it is overpowered by surprise and a great deal of wariness.

"Hi," Bella says cheerfully.

"Hello?" His voice cracks in question.

"I'm Bella," she says, smiling wide. "We live next door to each other."

He nods slowly, evidently unsure of what to make of her. It's clear that people don't really approach him in such a manner.

"Edward," he finally mumbles, so quietly that she almost doesn't hear him over the sound of Banner beginning the class.

Bella nods and smiles again, turning to pay attention to the lesson. Still, a part of her mind is pondering over his name.

Edward.

It's not the kind of name she'd expect from a teenager, really. It's old, something she'd imagine from a middle aged man, or even an elderly one.

Yet, Bella still thinks that he looks like an Edward.

Throughout the lesson, Bella is oblivious to the glances she receives from the boy that sits next to her. Unbeknownst to her, he throws her a fleeting look every five to eight seconds.

In the middle of the lesson, he huffs and clenches his defined jaw, glaring ahead at the blackboard. Bella catches him slowly shaking his head. He picks up a pen and starts studiously taking notes, shoulders hunched once again.

"You okay?" Bella asks in a whisper.

Edward's entire body is tense, but he doesn't look at her as he nods curtly.

Bella frowns at him, but doesn't say anything else.

_Not everyone will want to be your friend, Bella,_ she internally reminds herself. _Leave him alone._

Disheartened, she tries to turn her attention back to the teacher. It doesn't really work. The boy sitting next to her is too much of a distraction, and she can't even pinpoint why.

Edward's posture fluctuates with time. With the passing of every minute, he seems to finish a thought, which in turn changes the way he sits.

Brows furrowed, brooding pout, hunched shoulders.

Brows relaxed, brooding pout, leaning back in chair.

Frowning, slouching in seat.

Neutral expression, sitting up straighter.

By the time the bell rings, he has a rueful smile on his face, one that's just for Bella.

It catches her off guard, causing her to stop in the process of gathering her things.

Edward awkwardly rises to his feet, his eyes shifting back and forth between Bella and his books. He collects them in his arms and grabs his backpack as she watches, already knowing that he has something to say.

Once he's swung the backpack over his shoulder, he shoves his hands into his pockets and towers over her, standing stiff. She notices how his body is tilted a little to the side in a crooked way.

_Palm tree_, Bella thinks to herself. _He stands like a palm tree._

"Um, you said we're neighbors?" he asks, eying her cautiously. His voice is low, quiet, deep like the rolling of thunder in the distance.

Bella nods, smiling."Yeah. I saw you yesterday. Our rooms are actually right across from each other, so..."

They both blush at the same time, though for very different reasons.

Edward looks down and away. "Right… So, um, where are you off to next? If you don't mind me asking, of course…"

They start walking out of the classroom together, and Edward never releases his hands from the safety of his pockets.

"Lunch," Bella informs him. "You?"

"Equivalent," Edward says nodding. He doesn't say much else.

"Will you show me where the cafeteria is?" Bella asks hesitantly. "I'm supposed to meet Alice there."

"Brandon?" Edward asks as they stop at Bella's locker.

"I don't know her last name," she admits regretfully. "I met her like two days ago."

Edward nods, staring at his shoes. He pushes his glasses up. "I think Alice is the only Alice here," he mumbles. "Caliginous clothing? Odorous of alkaloids in the form of nicotine?"

Bella stares at him, confused.

Edward's cheekbones become tinged with pink and he clears his throat before rephrasing. "She dresses in dark clothes and smells like cigarettes?"

Bella laughs. "Yes, actually. Why didn't you just say that?"

"That's just how I talk," he murmurs, but Bella doesn't hear him.

"Shall we?" she asks.

He nods and jerks his head towards a pair of double doors, showing her the way.

* * *

><p>"So, I generally just wait for her here…"<p>

Edward has stopped at a small round table at the back of the noisy cafeteria. He gestures for Bella to sit with two long arms, and she complies with a small smile.

"Who else do you sit with?" she asks once he's seated across from her.

"Just Alice," he replies, eyes searching the crowded room.

They sit in silence again, and Edward stares at the table. Bella searches her mind for small talk, deciding to play safe and keep it school related.

"So, what year are you?" she asks casually.

"Junior," he replies. "And you would be a…?"

"Sophomore," Bella replies, "which really makes me feel small in comparison."

Edward shrugs. "High school is inconsequential."

Two older girls pass by their table and throw Bella curious glances. Feeling a little awkward, Bella smiles in response; the action is only being reciprocated by the blonde.

"They seem nice," Bella chuckles nervously, twirling the stud in her ear. She looks over her shoulder at the two girls. "They're really pretty, too."

Because her attention is not on Edward, she doesn't notice how he watches her and then shakes his head in disagreement, so briefly and so minutely that no one within more than a two foot distance would have noticed.

"A mosquito is more likely to bite a blonde than a brunette," he says distractedly. He's watching the back of Bella's head, eying her dark waves.

Bella turns to look at him, brows furrowed.

"What?" she laughs.

He nods towards the two girls. "Rosalie Hale, the blonde? She'll probably be bitten by mosquitoes more often than you. Blonde hair catches the light, gets their attention. Mosquitoes are attracted to contrasts, so…"

Bella stares at him, an amused smile on her face. She can't help but wonder what exactly his point is.

Edward, sensing her amusement, keeps rambling on in a nervous and hopeful manner.

"And Victoria? If she was living in Ancient Greece, they'd think she'd become a vampire when she died. Some may even have thought that she was a werewolf or a witch." He has Bella's full attention now, so he keeps going. "It's not exactly clear, though a theory of why they believed this is that their fears stemmed from bad relations with the Celtics, which had a high percentage of redheads amongst them…."

Bella laughs in disbelief. "Wow, that's… How do you even know this stuff?"

"I read a lot."

"Me too," Bella says, sitting up straighter.

"What do you read?" Edward asks in interest, leaning forward.

"Are you boring her yet, Edward?" Alice's voice comes from behind Bella, and she turns to see her other neighbor walking over to them.

"What took you so long?" Edward asks, frowning. He gets his answer when Alice plops down in the seat in between them and they get a strong whiff of lingering cigarette smoke.

"Alice," Edward says in a disapproving tone. "Didn't we discuss quitting?"

"Yeah," Alice says. "So?"

Edward rolls his eyes. "How many disgusting smoking-related facts do I have to tell you?"

Alice ignores him and turns to Bella. "So, Bella, I see you've met my walking, talking Encyclopedia of Useless Facts. That's why I call him Cyclo."

Bella doesn't know what to make of that. She just watches them in bemusement.

"They're not useless," Edward argues. "They're perfectly functional in many situations, such as getting your pertinacious friend to stop turning her lungs black. For example, did you know that urea, a chemical found in your urine, is used in cigarettes to enhance flavor?'

"Gross, Edward!" Alice cries, grabbing a nearby straw and throwing it at him.

"It's true," he insists. "Think about that the next time you're puffing your way to self-annihilation."

"He's annoyingly passionate about the subject," Alice informs Bella.

"He also likes to use some big words," Bella adds, though she smiles so Edward knows she's not picking on him.

Alice groans. "You shouldn't have said that."

Edward is smirking now, his eyes alight with excitement.

"You don't have hippopoto-monstroses-quipped-aliophobia , do you?" he asks, grinning. He says it so fast, Bella's not sure he's speaking English.

"What?" Bella asks with a laugh as Alice puts her face in her palms.

"It's the fear of long words," Edward chuckles like he's just told the best joke ever.

"That can't be a real phobia," Bella says in disbelief.

Edward nods. "It is, believe it or not."

"That's insane! But no, I don't have hippo… that phobia."

"It's better than anatidaephobia," he continues. "That is the fear that somewhere, a duck is watching you."

Bella bursts out laughing. "You're making this up."

Edward laughs as well, and Bella vaguely realizes that she likes the sound. "I'm not. You can Google it all. It usually starts in childhood, with trauma relating to some species of water fowl. "

"Are you done, Edward?" Alice asks, raising a thin brow.

"Not quite, _Mary_," he teases, and Alice gasps.

She smacks his arm. "Take that back, asshole."

He shakes his head, grinning. "Did you know that it's illegal to be a prostitute in Siena, Italy if your name is Mary?"

Alice stares at him like he's the biggest idiot she's ever seen. "Get the fuck out."

"I'm very serious."

"But prostitution itself is perfectly legal?" Bella asks with a laugh. "How does that make sense?"

"Most Italians in Siena are Roman Catholic," he explains. "The name Mary is obviously very sacred to them. It could also be in correlation to Mary Magdalene, who was said to be a prostitute."

"Change of topic, please," Alice snaps, glaring daggers at Edward.

The mood abruptly changes.

Edward looks abashed and mumbles a soft apology. Alice keeps a straight face, but shrugs it off. Bella is entirely confused, not understanding the exchange.

"So, is anyone else taking Spanish?" Edward asks timidly. It's clear he's trying to lighten things up again. "Learning a second language delays the onslaught of Alzheimer's disease…"

No one says anything. The tension at the table thickens, and Bella doesn't understand it.

"Hi, Edward." A new voice speaks up, and the trio glances up to see a tall, gawky, curly haired brunette. She's smiling shyly at Edward, who's now wearing a polite smile.

"Hey, Angela," he says softly.

"Did you start that English paper yet?"

He shakes his head. "Negative."

Angela nods, her eyes falling on Bella. "You're new, right?"

Bella nods, smiling. "Bella."

"Angela."

More awkward silence.

"So, I guess I'll see you later, Edward. Text me if you want to talk about the paper."

She quickly turns on her heel and walks away, stumbling a little.

Alice snorts. "You need to put that poor girl out of her misery, Edward."

Edward is frowning, but otherwise doesn't respond.

Bella is frustrated with her lack of knowledge on the lives of her new friends.

"Does she like you… or something?" she asks Edward.

"Like?" Alice repeats. "Please, that girl is fucking obsessed with him. They were lab partners last year and she's absolutely smitten. I keep telling him he should give her a chance."

Edward looks frustrated, glaring at Alice from under his lashes. "Drop it, please."

"Are we eating or what?" Alice abruptly changes the topic. "I could eat a goddamn horse right now."

After that moment, the tension dissipates. They're back to their lighthearted banter. Edward offers Bella a potato chip, but she declines with the argument that she's not hungry.

She's really not. There's excited energy pulsing through her, the kind that makes you lose your appetite. She feels strangely rebellious about becoming fast friends with these two.

At the back of her mind, there's a flicker of doubt about what Renee would say about her easy friendship with the atheists/sexologist's son and the "disturbing" girl from next door.

Bella wants to take the risk, though.

She knows it's worth it.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Bella finds herself distracted as she gets ready for bed.<p>

Her eyes keep going to the window, watching the room next door. It's dark.

She sits in the window seat and grabs her new journal, eager to start writing about her first day. She's tired, though that doesn't hinder her because she writes best when she's exhausted.

Bella opens the journal to the first page and runs her fingers over the crisp, lined paper. She leans down and inhales, reveling in the scent. Nothing smells better than virginal paper, free from the sharp scent of ink.

She suddenly sees something bright from her periphery and turns to see that the light in Edward's room has turned on. He passes by the window, though he's too tall for her to see his head.

He disappears for a moment and Bella keeps watching, waiting.

She doesn't even know why.

A moment later, Edward plops himself down on that computer chair and turns the monitor on. As he waits for it to load, he swivels the chair around and around.

Finally, he glances out the window and sees Bella watching. He abruptly stops moving and stares warily, smiling a little.

She smiles and waves and he returns the gesture, though his wave is a little less enthusiastic.

Bella turns to the last page in her journal and rummages through her backpack for a thick black marker. Once she finds it, she writes him a message in big, bold letters.

**DON'T FALL :)**

Once she catches his eye, she holds up the book so he can see what she's written.

He squints at it, pushing his glasses up, and then rolls his eyes. Smirking sheepishly, he grabs his own notebook and writes a reply with a big blue Sharpie.

**I WILL ENDEVOUR NOT TO. **

Bella laughs and gives him the thumbs up, going back to the first page of her journal and picking up her pen.

Edward has turned back to his computer, though he throws her a glance over his shoulder every now and then.

Bella stares at the blank page, suddenly experiencing the empty mind that is writer's block. She frowns, knowing that it shouldn't be so hard to write about her day.

After a good twenty minutes of staring at the blue lines, she huffs and decides to write the only words that choose to push themselves through the block in her head.

_Leaves. _

_Ducks._

_Mosquitoes._

_Burnt embers._

_Palm tree._

_Vines._

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Yup, enjoy the cuteness while it lasts, y'all.

_Wandering Vine_ is a pretty emerald-ish green by ORLY.

I forgot to mention that "between the soil and the sky" comes from this song called 'Between' by the band Courrier. The song itself is just a little irrelevant to the story, but when I heard that line I got excited because it fits perfectly with what the moral of the story will be.

Okay, shutting up now. Let me know what you thought! See you next week! :)


	3. Crush On You

**A/N:** I'm going to get better at review replies, I promise. Thanks for all the love! :)

Tight hugs and sloppy kisses for **Pinkaquaclouds** and** lyleslove294. **

Enjoy! :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Crush On You<strong>

It's been three weeks since the Swans first arrived in Forks. Three weeks since the blue and white house was occupied again, three weeks since the family established their place in town, and three weeks since Bella Swan first began sending Edward Cullen's heart into a tailspin.

Edward has thrown himself into his schoolwork with the vigor that he's only ever reserved for big exams. Schoolwork provides a good distraction from the girl next door, undoubtedly a threat to his studies. Living only one window away from her doesn't help, either.

"And then she traded her cookie for my apple slices, but I didn't like the cookie 'cause it was hard so I asked for my apples back but she wouldn't give them and ate them and then I didn't talk to her for the rest of the day. I gave the cookie to Lyle but I didn't tell him it was nasty so he ate it anyway."

Edward's mattress squeaks under the weight of the two little feet that belong to his seven-year-old sister. With her blond hair flying, she jumps up and down on his bed and shares the occurrences of her day.

Edward is hunched at his computer, typing away with his brows furrowed and hair in his eyes. He grunts at his sister in response, hoping it will be enough to stop her from demanding his attention in worse ways.

Maggie continues to bounce on his bed, though now she's taken to singing a song she learned in school. Edward isn't entirely oblivious to her presence, though years of practice have made it easier to zone out the annoying in matters of utmost importance.

Face pink with exertion and panting, Maggie finally falls on her behind.

"Can I go on your computer and play that game we played yesterday?" she asks.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm working."

"You're _always_ working."

Edward sighs and pushes his glasses up, but he's saved from having to respond when there's a knock at his door.

Esme pops her head into the room, eyes flitting between her two children.

"There you are," she says to her daughter, opening the door wider. "Leave Edward alone and let's go do your homework."

Esme lingers in her son's room for a little longer, smiling at Edward and brushing the hair out of his eyes. Vexed, he pushes her hand away.

"You need a haircut," she says.

"The length of my hair is quite sufficient, thanks," he mutters in response.

"But look how it falls onto your forehead-"

"And I'm very much inclined to keep it that way."

Esme sighs and gives her son a fond smile, knowing that there's no arguing with someone as stubborn as him.

"Let me know when it starts to bother you," she insists gently. A hairstylist, Esme gives free and frequent haircuts to everyone in her family.

Once Edward is finally left to his own devices, he goes on the hunt for a stapler. By habit, he gives his window a fleeting glance before leaving the room.

Bella's blinds are drawn.

Edward finds himself knocking on the door of his father's office, hoping that it'll be a quick visit. Since hitting puberty and really understanding what a sexologist is, Edward has always been slightly mortified at approaching his father for anything.

Although he knows that his fears are unwarranted, Edward can't help but feel as though his dad is constantly thinking of humiliating new questions to ask him.

"Come in," Carlisle Cullen's voice permits Edward entry, and he reluctantly steps inside the overly warm room.

"Hi, Dad."

"Edward." Carlisle, who sits in front of a laptop at his desk, glances up in surprise. His blue eyes appraise his son in brief and silent concern.

The moment of hesitation is enough to make Edward panic.

"I need a stapler." The words tumble out quickly, almost too fast to be intelligible.

Carlisle smiles and reaches into a desk drawer, holding out the stapler for Edward to take.

"How's school?" Carlisle asks before Edward can escape.

"Fine," he responds, slowly backing towards the door. He clutches the stapler to his side like a weapon.

"Classes going okay?"

"Yes."

"How's Alice?"

"The same."

"And Bella?"

Edward trips on his own foot but manages to catch himself.

"Good," he says nonchalantly. "See you at dinner."

He unintentionally slams the office door shut behind him.

Edward internally convinces himself that the pounding in his chest is a result of the painstaking process of avoiding his father's probing questions.

Stubborn and in denial, he refuses to believe it has anything to do with the mere mention of his new friend.

* * *

><p>The walk from Edward's house to Alice's house is a short one. Nevertheless, it takes him longer than necessary to close the distance.<p>

Bella's house, snug in between Alice's and Edward's, draws his eyes every other second. His footsteps slow and his eyes flicker to the windows, though this is something he does subconsciously.

Once he's on Alice's porch, he glances up to watch the Swans pull into their driveway. As Bella climbs out of the car and helps her mother retrieve groceries from the trunk, she catches Edward's eye and smiles slightly.

Edward responds with a small smile and an awkward, two-fingered wave. Once Renee notices their little exchange, he quickly moves to ring Alice's doorbell.

"Hey, fucker," Alice's greeting is far from enthusiastic, but she steps aside and opens the door to let Edward in.

"Your house is malodorous of Cannabis," Edward responds distastefully, shuffling into the cluttered living room.

The source of the stench comes in the form of Alice's boyfriend, Jasper, slouched on the couch with a blunt in between his lips.

Dirty blond hair falling into his eyes, he nods at Edward.

"'Sup, Edward?" he asks, blowing out a puff of smoke.

Edward shrugs, keeping his distance.

Jasper, twenty-one years old and five years Edward and Alice's senior, doesn't possess the friendliest of personas. Trussed up in leather and the owner of a vicious motorcycle, he screams 'intimidation' at anyone that crosses his path.

Edward, however, has known him long enough to know that he's not exactly someone to be feared. Avoided, yes, but not feared.

"Are we still on for the movies?" Edward asks Alice. She plops down next to Jasper and he throws his arm around her shoulders before passing her the blunt.

After inhaling, coughing, and blowing, Alice shrugs. "I don't think I want to go to the movies stinking like weed."

Edward feels his irritation spike. "And yet you'd still rather impair your immune system and make yourself susceptible to lung cancer."

Alice gives him a look he knows well. _Don't start throwing your medical facts at me now._

Jasper emits a noise that is a cross between a chuckle and a cough. "Lighten up, man. George Washington and Thomas Edison grew weed in their fucking backyards."

Edward blinks. "I knew that."

Jasper, eyes bloodshot and smile lazy, reaches over to the coffee table and holds up a bottle of beer.

"Beer?" he drawls.

Edward frowns in disgust. "I'll abstain, thanks. Are you aware that Australian Jewel Beetles are dying off from trying to fornicate with beer bottles?"

"Gross," Alice moans. "Shut up."

Edward shrugs, his mood dampened. The entire environment is suddenly darker than it was before. He no longer has the desire to stay or go anywhere with Alice.

The swinging of the front door cuts through their awkward banter and all three heads turn to the doorway.

An air of despondency falls on the three the mere second that Alice's mother appears in the living room. Looking like the walking dead with her pale, bony features and smeared makeup, Carol Brandon settles her dark eyes on Jasper.

"What the hell is this, Alice?" she asks sharply, gesturing towards Jasper with the five inch heels dangling from her hand.

"This is Jasper," Alice says in a condescending tone. Her expression is cold, eyes steely.

"Hi, Carol," Jasper says, smiling crookedly. His eyes rake over her body, clad in a short black dress. Carol does not look old enough to be Alice's mother, and could pass as a much older sister at best.

"Get this fucker out of my house, Mary Alice," Carol snaps, glaring at her daughter.

Alice meets her mother's gaze, expression blank, before elbowing Jasper hard.

Rolling his eyes and taking one more drag from the blunt before placing it in an ashtray, Jasper gets to his feet and stretches.

In the sixty seconds that it takes Jasper to leave, Edward hovers awkwardly. He watches Alice the entire time, his body tense and his hands clenched into fists in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

As though she suddenly noticed his presence, Carol's head whips toward Edward.

Her hard expression softens. "Hello, Edward."

Edward meets her gaze and nods slightly. "Hi, Carol."

"You two going anywhere?"

Edward shrugs.

Rubbing her eyes and further smearing her makeup, Carol sniffs and begins to walk towards the stairs. "Well, if you are, make sure she showers first. Is there food?"

"Microwave," Alice replies, monotone. By then, her mother is already on the second floor.

Edward walks over to the coffee table and nudges the ashtray away before sitting on the edge, facing Alice.

"How long was she gone this time?" he whispers, eyes narrowed in concern.

Alice's expression is dazed as she stares at the wall over his shoulder. "Three days."

"Did you hear from her at all?"

Alice shakes her head. "No, but… _he_ called."

Edward grimaces. "Did you answer?"

Alice crosses her arms over her stomach. "Yes, but I didn't know it was him. It was a different number."

"What did he say?"

Alice gets to her feet and hunts down a pair of beat up sneakers. "Some shit about the bills, but he hung up soon after. Whatever." She straightens up with her hands on her hips. "So, are we going to the movies, or what?"

They escape the lingering scent of marijuana and cheap perfume.

* * *

><p>Edward always looks forward to his biology class, and it has nothing to do with the educational material.<p>

You'd never be able to discern his excitement, at least not by looking at his face.

No, it's all in the way he walks. Instead of going to class with his hands habitually shoved in his pockets, his arms swing at his sides and the almost imperceptible ghost of a smile rests on his lips.

Usually one of the first people to arrive in class, Edward isn't surprised to see that the classroom is empty. Making his way to his table in the back, he throws his backpack on top and pulls out his latest reading venture, _Sybil_.

Even when he reads, waiting for class to begin, he'd be able to tell when Bella arrives.

He'll notice her exuberant walk from the corner of his eye, as well as the chocolaty brown waves heading in his direction. When he hears her cheerful voice, soft and happy, he'll greet her with a smile.

Still, Edward can't help but fidget as he waits. He hasn't actually _read_ in the beginning of biology class for a while now. His foot taps against the linoleum and he chews on the inside of his cheek. The words on the pages melt together and lose all meaning.

When he finally catches that brown blur from his peripheral, he lifts his head as casually as he possibly can.

No matter how much Edward tries to act casual when he sees Bella for the first time in the day, his body reacts in the least casual of ways.

It's how his heart skips a beat and then quickens, how his fidgeting intensifies. It's how his mind starts running at a fast pace, thinking about what to say. Should he be witty? Should he be nonchalant? What if he comes off as overly friendly? What if he comes off as a little too excited?

However, today is the day that Edward's mind and body don't react that way.

Today is the day that, instead of feeling warm at the sight of Bella, he feels cold.

Because Bella is not alone for once. She's walking next to Ben Cheney as she enters the classroom, both of them laughing.

Ben, tall and lean with an athletic build and sparkling blue eyes, has his hand on Bella's lower back as they walk. He seems to make a joke and she giggles and blushes like the stereotype of any smitten young girl.

When they reach Edward and Bella's table, neither of them spares its occupant a glance.

Heart sinking, Edward covers his face with his book, adopting an expression of complete concentration.

Still, his ears are on high alert.

Ben stands directly across from Bella with his elbows resting on the tabletop. Giving her a wide grin that makes Edward sick to his stomach, he leans forward a little.

"So," Ben begins. "You know the Fall Dance is coming up in a few weeks…"

Edward can't help but peek up to watch Bella's expression. Her face is lightly flushed and her teeth are gripping her lower lip while her fingers toy with the zipper of her hoodie.

"I know," she says quietly, eyes wide and shiny.

Ben licks his lower lips and raises a brow, nodding in a way that suggests the answer should be obvious.

"Are you going?" Bella asks shyly.

Ben shrugs, smirking a little. "I might. Are you?"

Cheeks tinged with pink, Bella looks down at the table and runs her finger along the edge. "Um, I'll have to ask my parents."

Ben nods just as the bell rings, causing him to straighten up. He reaches for her hand and grabs the nearest pen (which just so happens to be Edward's), before scribbling his number on her smooth skin.

Bella turns an embarrassing shade of pink as Edward squirms in his seat, irritation welling up inside of him.

"There's my number," Ben says, letting go of Bella's hand. "Let me know what your folks say, okay? We'll go together."

Bella nods and whispers an "okay" as Ben obnoxiously taps on the table with his knuckles before grinning and walking away.

"Oh my God," Bella squeaks. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my _God_."

Edward has to stop himself from making some smartass remark about the questionable existence of a higher power. Instead, he merely raises his brows in question.

"Did he just ask me to the dance?" Bella asks, finally giving her friend her attention.

Edward finds it difficult to meet her gaze when he responds. "Judging by the pen ink tainting your skin… Yes, he wants you to go to the dance with him."

Bella is oblivious to Edward's unusually moody demeanor. Starry eyed, she stares at the blackboard with a smile on her face. Mr. Banners's voice never registers with her brain.

"Wow," she breathes. "I've never been to a dance before, especially not with a guy."

"The use of the word 'especially' is counterproductive in that statement."

"I mean, I think he likes me. Do you think he likes me?"

"I'm sure my opinion on the matter will be entirely irrelevant."

"Maybe he was just being nice."

Edward raises his brow. "He must be at least a little fond of you to give you his phone number."

"That's true," Bella laughs. "God, he's the hottest guy I've ever met. So sweet, too! And charming and captivating-"

"Synonyms."

"-and he's on the soccer team and he plays the guitar!"

"So his cerebellum isn't damaged, as assumed."

"Oh, and his mom is friends with my mom! I didn't even know my mother knew how to make friends!"

Edward has no bitingly intellectual respond for that. The fact that Renee is friendly with anyone in town is somewhat of a shock, but Edward doesn't want to be rude in saying so.

"I can't believe he likes me," Bella whispers, dazed.

_Why wouldn't he?_ Edward silently throws the question at her.

"I don't really know him that well, though," she continues. "I mean, he seems nice and perfect in every way, but… What do you think of him?"

Edward is caught off guard by the question.

"I can't say," he replies slowly, frowning. "I've never spoken to him."

"But you've been around him longer than I have."

"Not particularly, no."

Bella's shoulders slump. "Maybe I'm over-thinking it. I have no reason to believe that he's anything but nice."

Edward falls quiet, letting her draw her own conclusions.

Knowing Bella, she talks herself in and out of things before settling on whatever her decision was in the first place.

Edward is well aware of this fact, so he knows that she's going to act on her new crush.

Bella begins to pick at her chipping nail polish, a bright orange color she informed him was called _Crush On You_ earlier in the week. _How accurate_, Edward had thought dryly.

"Hey," he suddenly says, sitting up straight. "That ignoramus stole my pen."

* * *

><p>"He was looking at me the whole time during Mass," Bella gushes to Alice at lunch the following week. "And then afterwards, when we were leaving, he came up to me and said hi. You know what's even crazier? That my mom was nice to him!"<p>

Alice snorts. "I guess he's a keeper if your mother doesn't claw his eyes out for looking at you."

The two girls continue to banter and joke about the handsome senior. Bella has decided that Ben is the perfect guy for her- athletic, handsome, charming, but also playful and flirtatious. She hasn't exactly kept her newfound crush a secret. In fact, both Edward and Alice have been hearing about it nonstop.

Edward, who always starts to sulk when the name Ben pops up in conversation, isn't being discreet about his displeasure with the topic at hand. He sits slouched in the seat in between them, long fingers absentmindedly flipping through the pages of _Macbeth._ His mouth is turned down at the corners, almost forming a pout.

"I saw him again this morning," Bella excitedly tells Alice. "He said 'hey' and I said 'hey' but now I'm thinking that maybe 'hey' was too casual? Like I didn't care? Do guys like 'hey' better than 'hi'? Does it send a different message?" Bella turns to Edward, eyes wide in slight panic. "Do guys like 'hey' better than 'hi'?"

Edward stares up at her from over the rims of his glasses, brow raised dubiously. "Guys don't care."

Bella doesn't know why, but she starts laughing. Alice soon joins in, and Edward manages to crack a smile.

"You two are seriously overanalyzing things," Edward adds."How a girl says hello is entirely irrelevant."

"What matters then?" Bella asks, genuinely curious.

Edward shrugs sullenly, forcing his attention to return to the book in his hands.

Bella frowns at his uncharacteristic disinterest. Alice is also looking at Edward, though her eyes are narrowed in speculation. She's known Edward longer than Bella has, and she's well aware that this isn't normal Edwardian behavior.

Later that day, when the trio is leaving the building, they are approached by the protagonist of Bella's innocent daydreams and the antagonist of Edward's secret envy.

"Hey, Bella," Ben Cheney says, effectively ignoring her two friends.

Alice rolls her eyes and nudges Edward, nodding toward the other side of the parking lot. "We'll see you later, Bell."

"Okay," Bella says, but her eyes are glazed over with Ben-induced fascination.

Unbeknownst to Bella, Alice momentarily has a hard time dragging Edward away. He grits his teeth and firmly plants his feet by Bella's side, scowling at Ben. Ben raises his brow questioningly and Edward narrows his own at a feeble attempt at intimidation.

It isn't until Alice pinches him in the arm that he gets the message and allows her to pull him away.

The two friends pause by the spot Edward usually gets picked up by his mother. He leans against the brick wall and watches Bella converse with Ben. She's visibly giggling and he's obviously turning on the charm.

"Am I alone in the suspicion and contempt I feel towards Benjamin Cheney?" Edward asks, his expression twisted in distaste.

Alice leans against the wall and crosses her arms over her chest. "Yes."

As Edward watches Bella, Alice watches Edward.

"Do you suppose she's falling in love with him?" Edward asks her. "A study at Oxford University concluded that you lose two friends when you fall in love. Seeing as we're currently the only friends she's thus far obtained, we may not be here in the long run."

"What gives, Cyclo?" Alice asks. "You got a thing for Bella Swan?"

Edward's head whips down to look at his best friend and his expression is completely blank. "What makes you draw that conclusion?"

Alice raises a brow. "I'm not blind. You look at her like everything she does is the answer to all the questions you _don't_ know the answer to."

"That's preposterous," Edward mutters, pushing his glasses up and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We're friends. I'm merely looking out for her well-being. In fact, you should be doing the same."

Edward shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, only looking away from Ben and Bella when he hears the familiar car horn.

"Your mother's here," Alice says, bored. She pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

Pouting in the broody way that Alice knows so well, Edward pushes himself off the wall. "Want a ride?"

"Jasper."

Edward nods and heads in the direction of his mother's Volvo, not even sparing Bella another glance before climbing in.

Alice smokes in a contemplative silence for a few more minutes, watching the entire exchange between Bella and her crush.

Bella fidgets nervously as she talks to Ben, nodding enthusiastically at something he says. He seems to make a joke, and she laughs, covering her mouth at an attempt to be dainty. It ends up looking awkward. Another minute goes by, and they part ways.

Even after Bella is driven away in her father's car, Alice stays glued to the wall with the cigarette dangling from her fingers.

She's never been one to go with her gut or predict the outcome of any given situation, but she can't help feeling like something is about to go amiss.

Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow- maybe not even anytime soon…

But somehow, someday, in one way or another, one of them is going to get hurt.

And it's not going to be her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_Crush_ On You _is a bright orange by ORLY. If you're into the neon colors like my 15 yr old sister, you'll like it. ;)

Much love until next week!


	4. Dreamboat

**Chapter 4: Dreamboat**

The sweet, pungent scent of incense dizzies Bella and adds flavor to her daydreams. Her tired eyes wander around the small church, dancing over the stained glass windows and the colorful, spiritual images.

As the priest rattles on about the evils of lust, Bella's gaze rebels against the words and seeks out Ben Cheney, sitting in a pew across the aisle. As though he can sense her watching him, his eyes meet hers and he offers her a smile.

Bella shifts in her seat and smoothes her skirt down, returning a smile that she hopes looks confident and doesn't reveal her inner rambling.

_Oh my God, he's smiling at me. He looks so freakin' good in blue. Did he get a haircut? Oh God, he's still looking. My heart. Ohhh, my heart. _

Renee's elbow yanks Bella's eyes away from the handsome boy. She's afraid that she's been caught ogling, but her mother merely nudges her so that they can get up to receive communion.

Bella keeps her eyes away from Ben and walks behind her parents with her hands clasped in front of her. She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears a whispered hello from behind.

Whirling around, she gives Ben a wide-eyed stare. He smirks down at her and wiggles his brows, making her giggle. He puts a finger to his lips, still smiling before putting on a serious expression.

By the time Mass is over, Bella can barely contain the giddy butterflies in her stomach. She is only able to maintain composure until she and her parents reach the church's parking lot.

Ben jogs over to the small family, a bright smile on his handsome face.

"Mr. Swan, Mrs. Swan," he nods politely. "Bella." The way he says her name makes her blush, and she's saved from embarrassing herself when Renee begins to gush over the teenager.

"Ben!" she exclaims excitedly. "How are you, darling?"

Bella nearly chokes at the term of endearment. Her mother never calls anyone darling, not even her own daughter or husband.

"Just wanted to stop by and say hello," Ben responds. He reaches out to give Charlie a firm handshake. "How are you, Mr. Swan?"

"Just fine, thanks," Charlie responds, sizing Ben up. He doesn't seem as stern as he was the first time they met Ben and his family in this very parking lot, Bella realizes with relief.

"How's the Deacon?" Charlie asks. "Didn't see him today."

"Dad's not feeling too well," Ben says regretfully. "His blood pressure's been a little high lately."

"That's terrible," Renee says, putting a hand to her heart. "We should give him a call, Charlie."

"He's doing better now," Ben assures them. "Actually, my mother wanted to know if you guys wanted to come over for dinner next Saturday. She said she'd call, but I'm cheating and telling you first."

Renee laughs. "Well, that certainly sounds like a lovely idea."

"It's actually the same night as the school dance," Ben adds, eyes briefly sliding to Bella. "I was thinking about taking Bella, but I wanted to ask you if it was okay first."

Bella stares at him in surprise, his lie barely registering with her. All she can think about is her parents knowing about her blooming feelings for Ben, and his for her.

"Oh," Renee glances at Bella, evidently taken aback.

"What do you say, Bells?" Charlie asks. "You want to go to this thing with Benjamin?"

There's something in Charlie's eyes that's imploring her to say no, but she can't.

"Yeah." Bella's voice comes out an octave higher than normal. She nods eagerly, a little too eagerly, and she finds herself incapable of being articulate. "Okay. Sure. Great."

Charlie begins to ask an onslaught of questions about the dance and Ben's plans on picking Bella up and dropping her off. It all happens much too quickly to feel real.

Soon, it is officially agreed upon that the Swans will drive to the Cheney's for dinner, from which Ben will accompany Bella to the dance and drop her off later.

Bella can barely control her happiness as she climbs into the backseat of her parents' car. She stares out the window with a small smile on her face, her mind forming fanciful little stories about the dance and what may follow.

She'll wear a pretty dress and he'll tell her she looks beautiful. He'll look ravishing in his dark suit and he'll kiss her hand like a gentleman. He'll also give her flowers and a chaste kiss on the cheek. Later, at the dance, they'll dance all night. He might even kiss her at her doorstep after dropping her off. Then he'll text her while she's in bed and they'll talk for hours. Then he'll-

Bella's daydreams come to an abrupt halt when she catches sight of Edward out of the car window. The car having stopped at a red light, Bella watches as Edward walks down the street, hand in hand with his little sister. He holds a small, pink Hello Kitty backpack in his hand while the other is being swung back and forth by Maggie as she skips down the sidewalk, dragging him along.

If Bella had been behind the wheel, she would have honked to get his attention before giving him and his sister a ride. She watches them bemusedly, grinning at the cuteness of it all.

"Aren't those the atheists' kids?" Renee asks no one in particular. Charlie grunts in response.

"She's a very cute little girl," Renee states, eying Maggie. "It's a shame she's going to grow up without God in her life."

Bella finds herself feeling defensive, her muscles tightening.

"They're really nice," she mumbles, but she doesn't go unheard.

"What was that?" Her mother only sounds like she's half-listening.

Bella considers brushing it off, but she feels like she has the responsibility to make it absolutely clear that Edward's family isn't what her parents think they are.

"Edward and Maggie," Bella reiterates. "They're really nice. All the Cullens are, actually."

Charlie glances at Bella from the rearview mirror. "Since when do you know the Cullens?"

Bella briefly weighs the pros and cons of telling her parents exactly how much she adores every single one of the Cullens. While she's only good friends with Edward, her encounters with the rest of the family were more than pleasant.

"Edward's a classmate," Bella says, ignoring the slight inaccuracy of the word. "He's probably the smartest guy I know, and he's just…." It's oddly difficult to find the appropriate word, and she's disappointed with the one she manages to come up with. "He's just really awesome. I once ran into Mrs. Cullen at the grocery store and we got to talking and she complimented my hair. She has her own salon; isn't that cool?"

Silence.

Bella uses it as her opportunity to keep talking.

"And then one time, when I was doing my homework on the porch, a piece of paper flew away from me and Mr. Cullen caught it because he had just gotten home from work. He gave it back to me and even gave me some of the answers real quick."

"I never said they weren't nice people," Renee mutters defensively. "I just question their beliefs, that's all."

"They're allowed to believe whatever they want," Bella keeps her tone as non-confrontational as possible, a difficult feat.

"She's right, Renee," Charlie adds, much to the surprise of his wife and daughter. "We may not necessarily agree with their beliefs, or lack thereof, but that doesn't make them any less decent."

Bella wants to squeal with joy and hug her father from behind, but the fact that such an action may cause a car accident holds her back. He's always been much more open-minded than her mother, though he always tries to accommodate her feelings.

"I'm just saying," Renee says, holding her hands up in surrender. That's all she says, and Bella feels a surge of victory.

The grin that breaks out across her face is automatic, uncontrollable. She catches her father's eye in the rearview mirror, and she receives a wink so quick that, for a short second, she thinks she imagined it.

She knows she hasn't.

* * *

><p>That same afternoon, Bella finds herself curled up on the window seat with her purple, velvet-bound journal. The words flow from her pink inked pen with ease, though not as quickly as the sentences that form in her head.<p>

Dialogue and imagery and emotion are all intertwined in the imaginary moments she creates in her mind. Imaginary people living in imaginary places, going through imaginary situations but experiencing very real emotions… She's in control of their fates, in control of their happiness. She writes their sorrows with tears of her own, and laughs with their joys.

It's where she's happiest, this little place in her head that pulls her away from the harshness of reality. It's a world of her creation, a world where her daydreams are a step closer to becoming so real that she can touch them, taste them, feel them…

She's so lost in the movement of her pen that she doesn't hear the knock on her door or notice when Charlie sticks his head inside her room.

"Bells? Bells!"

She jumps with a start and drops her pen. "Dad! Hi."

Charlie leans against her dresser with his hands in the pockets of his pants. He nods at the journal in her hands.

"What're you writin' there?"

Bella looks down at her journal and shrugs indifferently, though she's anything but indifferent about her work.

"A story," she says, and her voice sounds so small.

"Oh," Charlie nods and Bella feels uncomfortable, not used to having her father hovering around her. He's usually in and out of the house with rapidity, never saying or asking much unless he deems it absolutely necessary to speak.

Charlie rubs the back of his neck, reminding Bella of someone else. His face reddens a little and his mouth opens and closes with the effort of unspoken words.

"Is everything okay?" Bella asks, feeling anxious.

"Yeah, yeah," Charlie nods but avoids her gaze. "I just, uh, wanted to ask you something…."

"Okay…"

Bella moves over to the bed and sits pretzel style, as attentive as ever. She briefly wonders if she's in trouble for something, but then realizes that she's probably the best-behaved daughter anyone could ask for.

"So, this Ben…" Charlie has a determined look on his face as he finally meets Bella's eyes.

At the mere mention of Ben, Bella finds her cheeks warm. She looks down at her lap and starts tracing shapes into her jeans with her capped pen.

"What about him?" she asks, her voice deceptively calm.

"How well do you know him?"

Bella takes a deep breath. "Well, we're still in the stages of getting to know each other, but… He's really great, dad. So polite and sweet and just perfect in every way…"

"Perfect?" Charlie snorts.

"For me," Bella mumbles. "He seems to be," she adds after Charlie gives her an incredulous look.

"_Seems to_ be and _is_ are two different things," he says. "I hope you know that. You're young, these things happen-"

"Dad." Bella cuts him off, not wanting to hear the you're-young-and-don't-know-what-you're-doing lecture. "I know what I'm doing."

It sounds like so much of a lie to her ears. She wants him to believe her, but most of all, she wants to believe herself. As confusing as her emotions may be, she wants to believe that they'll lead to bigger, more magical things.

If she believes hard enough, maybe her fanciful daydreams will become reality.

"I sure hope you do," Charlie says, a little sterner this time. "Now, he seems like a very nice young man, but looks can be deceiving…."

"He's as nice as he looks," Bella counters. "Trust me. Please."

She implores him to trust her with her eyes, wanting him to see how badly she wants all of this to work out. She never thought that she'd ever find a guy her parents would approve of, and every second that they live in doubt gets in the way of her goals.

"Your mother adores him," Charlie says, frowning. "That's why I'm worried."

Bella laughs. "That make sense." Upon seeing the concerned look remaining on her father's face, she quickly uses word power to ease his worries. "C'mon, Dad, Ben is the son of the Deacon. He goes to church every Sunday, he's on the soccer team, he gets good grades… It doesn't get any better than that. He's never treated me with anything other than respect."

Charlie observes his daughter's face with intensity, searching and failing to find any dishonesty or doubt. Bella's face is pure sincerity, a face so innocent and hopeful that denying her anything would be worthy of revoking his fatherly duties.

Shoulders slumped in defeat, Charlie sighs. "If you're absolutely sure…."

Bella nods eagerly. "I'm positive. This will be a good thing, Dad."

_I think._

The wayward thought passes through her mind, so quickly that she doesn't have time to acknowledge it.

"I believe you," Charlie says the words she's been waiting to here, and she can't help but jump off the bed and tackle him in a hug.

Unfamiliar with such affection, he gently returns the gesture, patting her on the back.

"I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were writing," Charlie states. "A story, you said? Is it for your English class?"

Bella shakes her head, retrieving her journal and flipping through the pages.

"No, it's just for fun," she says quietly. She doesn't know why, but the vulnerability that she feels at revealing such a thing surprises her.

"What's it about?"

The sudden interest her father has in her hobby makes her uneasy. She's always been into writing and making up little stories, even as a little girl. Never before has either of her parents ever really taken interest in that part of her personality, usually choosing to brush it off.

"Um, it's a love story." The words fall awkwardly from her lips, tumbling into the air between them without grace.

"A love story?" Charlie looks perplexed, like she's just told him a joke he doesn't understand.

Bella nods. "Yeah, it's… Never mind."

She sets the journal on the shelf above her bed, pushing it back until it's no longer visible.

"Is that what you do up here all day?" her father asks. "Write?"

She can't make out the expression on his face. "Pretty much…."

"Is that what you want to do with your life, then? Writing?"

Bella raises her brows in surprise at the question. "Um, I haven't seriously thought about it, but… Yes. I think I'd really like to."

Charlie hums and then hisses through his teeth. "Are you sure that's a wise choice? Writing isn't necessarily the most stable of careers… You're still young enough to change your mind."

"I'll figure it out, Dad," Bella says, placating him. "Don't worry about me."

The fact that her father doesn't take her passion seriously hurts more than she'd admit, but she's stubborn. She knows what she wants and no one can talk her out of changing her mind.

"All right, then," Charlie mutters, aware of the shift in his daughter's mood. "I'll let you get to bed, then. Good night."

After he leaves, Bella collapses onto her bed and rubs her face with her hands. Speaking to her father leaves her exhausted, though not as exhausted as speaking to her mother makes her.

She hates the little flickers of doubt that seep into her brain, doubts about both her writing and Ben.

Does she really know that he's perfect for her? They've barely had a conversation that lasted more than two minutes.

Then again, she loves how he makes her feel. He makes her feel pretty and special, like the girls in her stories.

What more could she possibly ask for?

It all makes sense in her head and that, to her, is all the reassurance she needs.

* * *

><p>It is a chilly Tuesday afternoon when Bella is reveling in the quiet of being home alone. Charlie is working late and Renee has gone to run some errands, leaving Bella with her own peace of mind.<p>

Curled up on the couch with a blanket and her biology textbook, Bella tries to burn facts about photosynthesis into her brain. Groaning in frustration at her mind's inability to remember anything that isn't fiction, she slumps over and buries her nose in the crook of the book.

The only thing to rouse her from her motionless state is the sound of the doorbell.

Feeling lazy and much too warm, she reluctantly drags herself off the couch and shuffles over to the front door, thinking that her mother forgot the keys.

When she opens the door, the cold gust of air and the person in front of her turn her tiredness into alertness.

"Edward," Bella says in surprise. "Hi."

Edward stands in that crooked palm-tree way that Bella finds so amusing, one hand in his pocket and the other holding onto some envelopes. His glasses are lightly splattered with the rain that falls beyond the cover of the porch. He offers her a shy smile and an awkward wave, his gaze flitting everywhere except her eyes.

Bella is suddenly hyperaware of how she's dressed- the baggy gray sweats must be less than flattering and the thick purple sweatshirt must make her look like a blob. Her hair is a mess from rubbing against the couch and her breath must smell like the mushroom and onion pizza she had after school.

She doesn't even have time to wonder why she cares.

Edward clears his throat and holds out the envelopes.

"Your mail merged with our mail," he chuckles nervously. "I saw your mother leave so I decided it was safe to come over and hand it in."

Bella smiles and takes the mail from him. "That's the second time this week. Your mom brought it over last time…"

Edward nods and shuffles his feet, torn about something, and Bella vaguely begins to wonder what he would look like if he cleaned up a bit. How would he look in something other than sweatshirts and jeans? In a suit, maybe?

"Hey, are you going to the dance this weekend?" Bella asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

Edward seems caught off guard by the question.

"I, uh…" He trails off, narrowing his eyes a bit. "I'm not sure yet. Are you?"

Bella grins, nodding happily. "Yup! Ben asked my parents on Sunday, so I pretty much didn't have to. They're cool with it."

Edward's face is impassive as he looks down and away. Long fingers rub the back of his neck and he clears his throat.

"I might go," he states, nodding at the wood under his feet. "If I have nothing else to do…"

"You should come," Bella encourages, lightly smacking his arm with the envelopes in her hand. "It might be fun."

Edward chuckles, and the sound makes Bella smile. It's deep and a little throaty, pleasant to the ears.

"They're highly overrated, actually," he tells her ruefully. "They last for approximately three hours, the music is awfully mainstream, the chaperones rain on everyone's parade, the food is horrendous-"

Edward's mini rant is interrupted by the obnoxious roaring of a car engine, which comes to a screeching halt right outside of Alice's house.

Carol Brandon, dressed in a short purple dress, climbs out of the driver's seat with a cigarette dangling from in between her lips. She pulls her heels off and shuts the car door with her bare foot before walking down the front path.

Spotting Edward on Bella's porch, she gives him a two-fingered wave and merely appraises Bella before continuing her slow, barefoot walk in the rain.

"Is that Alice's mom?" Bella asks quietly.

Edward looks at her in surprise. "This is the first time you're seeing her?" Bella nods and Edward rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, that's Carol."

Bella leans against the doorframe and folds her arms over her chest, a thoughtful expression on her delicate features. "Why does she dress like that? She's a dancer, right? How comes she's never around?"

Edward looks anywhere except at Bella, and she picks up on his discomfort. "Am I being rude for asking so many questions?" she asks embarrassedly.

"Not at all," Edward says, shaking his head. "It's just that… well… Alice's situation is rather…" He lets out a huff and rubs his eyes from under his glasses. "Never mind."

"Tell me," Bella doesn't mean for it to come out as a demand, but she doesn't like seeing him so flustered and her curiosity is getting the best of her.

Edward eyes her contemplatively for a moment, and then he steps so close that Bella can smell him; he's all rain and leaves and boy.

"You can't tell anyone, okay?" he says quietly. He looks her in the eye this time, a moment so rare that she's taken aback by the deep green that stands stark against his skin. "Especially not Alice. She'll gnaw my head off if she finds out I told anyone."

Bella nods, eyes wide, and Edward takes a deep breath before giving Alice's house a cautionary glance.

"Alice's mother isn't a dancer," he says, so quietly and quickly that she almost can't hear him over the pouring rain. "I suppose she _was_ at some point, but then she began depending on other things for money."

"What about Alice's dad?"

"He left them when she was two," Edward says, frowning. "She was forced to grow up fast, which explains why she's so mature for her age. Carol's always been a bit… neglectful…" He gazes at Alice's home, brows furrowed thoughtfully.

"So then if Carol's not a dancer…" Bella trails off questioningly, and Edward gives her a meaningful look, evidently not wanting to say the word.

Bella puts two and two together- the short dress, the high heels, the makeup, the erratic schedule.

"She's a _prostitute_?" Bella cries, and a split second later, Edward is covering her mouth with his hand.

Eyes wide in panic, he glances around before giving her a pleading look.

"Sorry," Bella squeaks behind his hand. His skin is warm, a part of her brain taking note of his pleasantly clean scent.

Edward drops his hand and then takes a step back. He shoves both hands in his pockets, securing his arms so as to not touch her again.

"We don't know that for sure," he admits. "All evidence declares that she sells herself for money, and her 'pimp', or whoever he is, is the one that pays the bills and the mortgage. Alice has only met him a handful of times. He's the ultimate definition of an asshole."

"Poor Alice," Bella whispers. "That's so awful."

"She doesn't need your sympathy," Edward says gently. "She's very, very strong."

"Do they get along? Alice and her mom, I mean."

Edward merely shakes his head in regret.

The sound of feet on the steps of the porch causes the pair to jump in surprise. Renee, holding two grocery bags in one hand and a dripping umbrella in the other, has her brows raised at Bella and Edward.

Bella's heart skips a beat and then leaps to her throat. It's as though she's been caught doing something dirty, and the look she receives from Renee insinuates as much.

"Hello, Mrs. Swan," Edward says politely.

"Edward just came to drop off the mail," Bella says hastily. "It got mixed up again… so… yeah… Here it is." She waves the envelopes in the air.

"Well, that was nice," Renee says, forcing a smile at Edward. "Thank you." She turns to Bella, promptly ignoring Edward, "I think it's time to come inside. How long have you had that door open? The house must be freezing."

She pushes past Edward and gives Bella a pointed look before squeezing past her and entering the house.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Edward says, smiling with half of his mouth. In a whisper he adds, "My mother must think that your mother has dragged me inside to have me exorcized… No offense to your mother, of course."

Bella bursts out laughing. Edward is well aware of Renee's antagonism towards his family and their beliefs. It's something that he and Bella joke about quite a bit.

Bella watches Edward descend the porch steps, and then jog through the rain, the droplets darkening his sweatshirt.

Fondness for her neighbor friend warms her entire being and she can't control the smile that spreads across her lips.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **"Fondness"? Yeah, okay, Bella. ;)

_Dreamboat _is a lovely beige by ORLY.

See you next week!


	5. Green With Envy

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews/favorites/alerts, y'all! I appreciate every single email I get for this little story!

As always, hugs for **Pinkaquaclouds** and **lyleslove** for being the eyes that find all the nonsense in anything I may write.

Are we ready for a teeny bit of drama?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Green with Envy<strong>

"Jell-O is made from bones and hides."

Bella wrinkles her nose in disgust and glares at Edward, which makes him bite his lip to suppress a laugh. She shoves her cup of red Jello-O aside and picks up a French fry, biting it viciously and chewing in a ferocious manner.

Edward surrenders to his loud guffaw. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. My brain just recalls these things every chance it gets."

Bella shakes her head and rolls her eyes, though her lips are pulling into a tentative smile. "I wonder about your brain sometimes."

Smirking, Edward raises a brow in mock challenge. "Is that your way of surreptitiously saying that there's something wrong with my head?"

With a laugh that turns into a cough because she just so happened to be sipping her lemonade when he said that, Bella opens her mouth to respond before she's cut off by a large black backpack being thrown onto the table.

"'Sup, bitches?" Alice says, plopping into the seat in between them.

Edward tries very hard not to let the irritation bubbling inside of him show on his face. Much of it stems from Alice's interruption of his banter with Bella, something that has only recently started becoming effortless.

Having passed the friends-but-not-close-friends stage, it's much easier to joke around and confide in each other. The time that Edward has alone with Bella is limited. Though he can't fault Alice for being a part of their trio, he can't exactly control his irritation at her presence, either.

The strong whiff of cigarettes that comes off of Alice in pungent waves is no longer surprising. In fact, Edward and Bella have become immune to it.

"You weren't in History this morning," Edward says, frowning at Alice in disapproval.

Alice rolls her eyes and drags Edward's lunch tray towards her, eating his fries in such rapidity that it's as though she hasn't eaten in days.

"I had somewhere else to be this morning," she says through a mouthful of fried potato. "So, do you guys think I can sneak Jasper into that stupid dance? We both need to get the hell away from our houses."

Bella has a thoughtful look on her face, and though Edward usually finds it endearing, he gets a bad feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You've done it before," Edward tells her. "What's another trespass?"

"I don't know," Alice mumbles. "It's just so predictable. The only reason I even go is to make fun of it. And to see how people react when I spike the punch. That's always a blast."

Bella laughs. "You seriously do that every time? You've never gotten caught?"

"Sure I have. I've been banned from dances, suspended, had my house called…" She shrugs again, putting on an indifferent attitude that Edward can see right through.

Bella smiles sympathetically. "I guess having your house called isn't so bad, especially when you're the only one home."

Edward feels his heart drop and Alice's dark eyes flash to Bella's.

"What do you mean by that?" Alice asks calmly, but it's the calm before the storm, the rolling of the dark clouds before the thunder strikes.

Bella realizes her mistake and looks at Edward in a slight panic. He tries to say something, to break the tension and save Bella, but his mind has chosen the worst time to go blank.

Bella, nervous and panicked, starts rambling.

"Well it's just that your mom isn't home most of the time because of her job, I mean that her schedule is just really crazy right? So then she wouldn't even be there for the phone call and-"

Edward throws her a light kick under the table, giving her a look. _Stop talking, please stop talking._

"What do you know about by mother?" Alice snaps.

"Alice-" It's the only word Edward is able to say before she's glaring at him, betrayal clear as crystal on her face.

"What did you tell her?" she hisses.

Edward shakes his head, feeling ashamed and embarrassed at having hurt Alice. He knows that Bella hadn't meant to blurt out what she did, but he did trust her to keep her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry," he says, but the words aren't even out before Alice is shoving the lunch tray towards him, knocking food onto the table, and then kicking her chair over before leaving the lunch room in a storm. Several students sitting nearby look up at the commotion, excited at the prospect of drama.

"Oh, God," Bella says, covering her mouth. Her eyes are glistening with tears, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Edward."

He shakes his head distractedly, thoughts centered on going after Alice before she does something she'll regret.

"It's all right," he says standing up. He attempts a reassuring smile. "I know you didn't mean it. I'll be back in a second, okay?"

The devastated look on her face makes it difficult for him to leave her alone, but he forces his feet to move away from the table.

Breaking into a light jog, he leaves the cafeteria and heads in the direction he knows Alice will be going in. Turning into a hallway and seeing her dark figure stomping towards the gymnasium, where she will undoubtedly use the hidden doorway to go outside and smoke, he calls after her.

"Alice, wait!"

Alice's footsteps falter, but she doesn't stop.

When Edward is close enough to grab her arm, she whirls on him and shoves his chest, causing him to stumble backwards.

"Why did you tell her?" Alice cries angrily.

"I'm sorry," Edward says again, more forcefully this time. "She saw Carol for the first time and was curious, so I just…"

He wants to say that he didn't mean to tell Bella everything about Alice's mother, that he just blurted it out unthinkingly, but a statement so far from the truth is unlike him.

"You just what?" Alice hedges, crossing her arms defensively. "You just told her everything she wanted to know because you have a little crush on her?"

Anger, rare and unwanted, rises up in him and claws at his insides. Edward's nostrils flare and he inhales deeply, meeting Alice's gaze.

"That's not why," he says through clenched teeth. "And I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't use that against me."

Alice steps towards him, so close that they'd be chest to chest if Alice wasn't more than a head shorter. She tilts her head up to glare at him and he stares back, unwavering.

"And I'd appreciate it if you kept the stuff that's supposed to be between _us_, between _us_," Alice counters, eyes glinting.

"Listen to me," Edward says, his patience waning. "I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. How many times do I have to tell you that? Quit acting as though I told her everything just to piss you off." Alice turns away, arms over her chest, her jaw set.

"She saw your mother come home," Edward explains quietly. "How she was dressed, how much makeup she wore, the unusual time she came home… I didn't even have to say anything before she drew her own conclusion. So, no, Alice, I didn't say, 'Sit down, Bella, let me tell you everything about Carol Brandon.' She figured it out on her own and asked me about it, and you know my incapability of lying…"

Alice snorts bitterly. "Ain't that the truth."

Edward reaches forward and gently tugs on the fabric at her elbow. "Come on, Ali. Bella isn't going to go and flash neon signs about it. She feels terrible."

"Whatever," Alice mumbles, sniffing in feigned indifference. Edward can tell that she's already over it, but that's just who Alice is. There is much melodrama, but once that moment passes, it's as though nothing even happened.

Reaching forward, Edward holds onto Alice's elbow and pulls her towards him. She stumbles sideways and he catches her in a bone crushing hug, knowing that she needs it now more than ever.

When Alice pulls away, she smiles shyly and punches him lightly in the arm. "You're really sweet sometimes, asshole."

Edward chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the compliment. "I suppose you have your moments as well."

Alice rolls her eyes and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. "Anyway, I'm gonna sneak behind the gym for a smoke. Want to keep me company?"

Immediately, Edward's mind flashes to Bella, by herself in a crowded cafeteria, feeling remorseful and ashamed at her slip… A twinge of protectiveness passes through him as he imagines her sitting hunched over and alone.

"I think I'm going to go back actually," Edward says. The guilt that he feels at such a statement is so unfamiliar that he wonders whether his decision is a right one. One more thought of Bella and he's absolutely positive.

Disappointment, too quick and unnoticeable for Edward's eyes, crosses Alice's face before she settles on an indifferent expression.

"That's cool," she mutters, adjusting the strap at her shoulder. "See ya later, Cyclo."

As she walks down the hallway, a lone figure with a casual but quick gait, Edward can't help but sense a shift.

He stands there and watches Alice leave with a heavy weight at the pit of his stomach, and it's like the air around him is different now. His choice to stay back, though seemingly unimportant on the surface, has caused an almost imperceptible crack in their relationship.

More than just his choice to accompany Bella, it's the fact that he chose to reveal anything about Alice at all. Now there's a fracture in the foundation of their friendship, possibly the first step towards what may possibly end in a collapse.

* * *

><p>Edward slumps down onto a stool in his kitchen, placing his head in his folded arms. The day has left him emotionally exhausted, something that he doesn't experience all too often. But after comforting an angry Alice (ordinarily so reserved) and a distressed Bella (ordinarily cheerful), he finds himself faced with the reality of having girls as his closest friends.<p>

"Hi, honey," Esme greets her son as she walks into the kitchen carrying chrysanthemums in her gloved hands. She walks over to the flower pot on the window sill above the sink and drops them in. "Are you hungry?"

Edward watches her skilled hands morosely. "I could eat."

Esme pulls off her gloves and runs a hand through his hair as she passes by him. She smells like the earth she had her hands in, warm and comforting, and he inhales the scent.

"You look sad," Esme says as she pulls out a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter.

Edward shrugs. "Just tired."

"Is Alice okay?" Esme asks in concern, unpeeling a banana. "I saw Carol's car this morning."

"She's fine, as fine as Alice can possibly be."

"You should invite her over for dinner."

"You know she'll say no."

"When is the poor girl going to realize that she is _not_ a charity case?" Esme asks herself.

Edward doesn't respond, but instead watches as his mother puts together the peanut butter and banana sandwich he's loved since he was a boy.

"And how's Bella?" Esme asks, tactfully focusing on her sandwich-making task. Her tone of voice is casual, _too_ casual, and Edward sees right through it.

"Just fine," he replies curtly, occupying himself with the sleeve of his shirt.

A glance at his mother reveals a knowing little smirk.

"She's a sweet girl," Esme sighs. "And so polite, too."

Edward starts to fidget, wanting to grab the knife from his mother and finish the stupid sandwich himself. Her banana-slicing pace is much too slow.

"Banana's are a berry," he blurts out. "And strawberries aren't."

Esme smiles at him, aware of his intention to distract her. "Are they?"

"Yes, and you can use the peel to polish silverware and stop mosquito bites from itching."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughs. "So, are you going to that dance?"

Edward groans out loud this time, burying his face in his arms again. Having your mother on the PTA isn't necessarily a favorable thing.

"I don't know," he mumbles into the counter.

"You should ask Bella."

Edward's head whips up and he can't quite control the look of horror that crosses his face. To have his mother suggest such a thing so blatantly indicates that she knows how he feels about Bella a lot more than he'd like.

"She's going with someone else," Edward mumbles, quickly grabbing the plate from her. "Besides, even if she wasn't, she wouldn't go with me."

He can't get out of there fast enough.

Saying out loud what he's known for so long is like he's just punched himself in the gut. The words had hovered in the air around him, loud and demanding that he face the facts and accept the reality of the situation.

Reality tells him that he may not be good enough for Bella.

* * *

><p>Homework.<p>

For Edward, homework is a way to center his mind and distract him from the insecurities that he tries so hard to build up a barrier against. Memorizing information about natural gases or the financial basis of the Great Depression emphasize his gift of knowledge and depreciate his socially awkward tendencies.

All is well as he eats his sandwich and finishes typing up his biology notes for convenient reading and memorization.

That is, until he begins to hear a tapping at his window. Turning away from the computer, he lifts away his curtain to see Bella at her window, tossing jelly beans.

"What are you doing?" Edward laughs after opening his window and sticking his torso out. He rests his hands on the window sill outside and gives her a questioning look.

The distance between their windows isn't more than a yard and a half. Branches from the tree that separates them scrape against the walls of their homes, close enough to touch. They can speak to each other this way, though they have to speak loudly.

"I'm getting rid of old jellybeans," Bella explains, much happier than she'd been that same morning. "Oh, and trying to get your attention. Were you busy?"

Edward lies, shaking his head. "Not really; just typing up biology notes."

"Typing them?" Bella asks in confusion.

Edward nods. "Studies show that your brain retains more information when written in a font that's almost indecipherable."

"Huh." Bella tilts her head thoughtfully. "Good to know."

"I could print you out a copy if you'd like," Edward offers shyly. He is unable to curb the unfamiliar, uncontrollable urge he has to help her with any and every problem.

Bella smiles and squints at him through the bright rays of sunlight that filter through the massive branches of the dominating tree.

"I'd really like that," she says, but her voice is just a whisper against the wind that blows her hair around her face.

Edward has to look away from her to stop himself from staring. Instead, he looks down and finds a red jellybean that's landed on his windowsill.

Picking it up and turning it over in his fingers, he says, "You know, jellybeans contain crushed insect cocoons because they're used to give them this special shine."

Bella is scowling at him and he laughs at her expression.

"Keep telling me stuff like that and you'll turn me off food forever," Bella grunts.

…_you'll turn me off…_

…_.you'll turn me off…_

…_you'll turn me off…_

It's all he hears, but he hears it in a different voice, a nasty, nasally, high-pitched voice.

"Sorry," he mumbles, offering a smile he hopes looks apologetic.

"So, have you decided if you're going to the dance?"

Edward shrugs. "Not sure."

"You should," Bella encourages. "We can all hang out."

Edward bites his tongue and refrains from telling her how much he doubts that Ben will let her anywhere near her friends. Instead, he merely nods and tells her that he'll see.

Once Bella declares that it's almost dinner time and she has to retreat, the two wave at each other and proceed to shut their windows.

Edward shivers, realizing how cold the open window has made his room.

Unclenching his fist, he finds the red jellybean tucked into his palm. Without a second thought, he places it in his pocket.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Cullen. Do you have a second?"<p>

Ben Cheney doesn't wait for a response as he sinks down in a chair across from Edward.

The Forks High library is more than empty during Edward's free study hour, but that's just the way he likes it. For Cheney to have the audacity to interrupt such an important part of his day irks Edward to no end.

Edward looks up from his Advanced Calculus textbook and stares at Ben over the rim of his glasses. The jock, who never really so much as looked at Edward before, can't be trusted. His jaw dropping good looks and athletic build may blind the ladies from the egotistical pompousness that lies in his eyes, but Edward knows better.

"Eighteen-hundred seconds remain, to be exact," Edward responds, eying Ben wearily.

Ben's brows furrow and he shifts in his seat. "Okay," he drawls out slowly, tapping a pen against the table in between them. It's Edward's pen, the one he walked away with when he asked Bella to the dance.

"So, listen," Ben says. "I kind of need your help."

"Well, if you 'kind of' need it, then I suppose you'd be able to live without it," Edward retorts.

He can't help being a smartass. The envious claw that grips at his insides at the very sight of Bella's love interest makes him want to hit something, a primal urge that he doesn't experience often.

Ben is frowning, evidently not sure what Edward is talking about. He decides to cut to the chase.

"You're really good friends with Bella, right?" Ben asks, the epitome of teenage casualness.

Edward narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Yes…"

"What is she into?" Ben leans forward with his hands folded on top of the table and Edward leans back and farther away from his attentive stare.

"I wanna get her a present," Ben explains, gesturing nervously with his hands. "Just to show that I give a shit, you know?"

Edward shakes his head. "So you're going to _buy_ her affection?"

Ben snorts arrogantly. "I already have that. No, I need something more."

"I honestly don't think I can help you," Edward states, monotone. The longer he's around Ben, the more likely he is to bang his head repeatedly against the table.

"Just tell me what she likes," Ben pleads, though the frustration in his tone is also very obvious. "I don't want to fuck this up."

_You're well on your way already, pal._

Edward's wayward thought only lasts for one moment of glee. He can tell that, despite Ben's ego, he genuinely likes Bella and is trying very hard to impress her. Edward finds it difficult to fault him for that, since he too has fallen for the new girl in town.

On the other hand, helping out one's rival is a foolish thing.

Edward knows exactly what Bella likes. Books and empty journals and colorful writing utensils and nail polish and knee socks and funky jewelry and fruity candy and cheesy foods and whiny rock band music. Ben could get her any number of things that would please her.

But would Edward disclose such information, therefore diminishing his chances with Bella, if he has any at all?

Of course not.

"If you could get her a gift, what would you get her?" Ben hedges.

_Tickets to her favorite band. A new journal since the one she's writing in now is running out of clean pages. A colorful and possibly pricey umbrella since she always complains about the weakness of her current one. The entire Gilmore Girls series on DVD, since she obsesses over it. An antique typewriter, if I could afford it. A cool bookmark, maybe one that lights up so that she can read in the dark. Some gift bag thing from that place that they sell all those nice smelling lotions and hand sanitizers…_

"A cookbook," Edward states curtly.

Ben's skeptical frown makes his cheeks droop like a bulldog's and Edward would have laughed if Ben didn't irritate him so much.

"Does she like to cook?" Ben asks doubtfully.

Edward shrugs. "She did say she wanted to be better at it."

That's not necessarily a lie, and Edward knows this. Bella did say that she wished she was a good cook, but she doesn't have the desire to even bother learning.

Ben nods to himself, satisfied with that answer.

"Is that all the information you require?" Edward asks shortly. He adjusts his textbook and pushes his glasses up, looking down to make a point.

Ben doesn't answer, but just stares at Edward curiously.

Then, finally, "What's your problem, man?"

The tone of Ben's voice isn't confrontational, just mildly inquisitive. He doesn't quite understand the hostility that rolls off of Edward.

"I'd just like to get back to studying," Edward mumbles. He looks at the pen in Ben's hand and reaches over to pluck it away. "And I'll retrieve my pen, thanks."

The contemplative look on Ben's face morphs into one of complete realization.

"Holy shit, you like her too, don't you?" Ben's voice is loud in the quiet library, and the glare that Edward gives him holds the most resentment anyone has ever received.

When Edward doesn't respond, Ben hisses through his teeth and rises to his feet.

"Sorry, man," he says, giving Edward a pitiful look."I didn't know. Thanks anyway." He turns to leave but then pauses to clap Edward on the shoulder. "She's out of your league, anyway. I'm sure there's some other nice girl out there for you."

The casual façade Ben kept up has been peeled away to reveal the true cockiness of his nature.

As he walks away with a confident step, Edward sits and repeatedly clenches and unclenches his fist.

"_She's out of your league…"_

"_She's out of your league…"_

"_She's out of your league…"_

There's a part of Edward that believes every word of that, believes it right down to the last syllable. The words etch themselves in his brain, a truth so painful that it should be harder to believe, though it's not.

But then there's another part of Edward, a new part that hasn't been of much use for a very long time now. It stretches as it awakens from its sleep, all stiff muscles and rejuvenation.

This part of Edward is a little more primal, more fueled by testosterone. While his brains forces him to focus on things other than what his needs are, there come times when even his brain can't distract him from the fact that he's a teenage boy.

No, Ben's words have caused this other side to wake up and ready itself for battle.

Because, in this moment, Edward realizes that he wants nothing more than to prove Ben wrong.

There isn't going to be some other nice girl to tickle Edward's fancy and capture his heart. It's too late for that.

Maybe, for the first time in his life, he's actually going to fight for something.

Not just something, but some_one_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Game on, Edward!

_Green With Envy_ is a dark teal-ish green by ORLY. I swear other chapters will be named after other brands, ORLY just has names that matched perfectly with the content. ;)

Until next week, you guys should check out this one-shot called_ I Went for a Walk Today_ by **ItIsRaining**. Absolutely beautiful and it's written by one of my most favorite people on the planet.

See you at the Fall Dance! :)


	6. Harvest Moon

**Chapter 6: Harvest Moon**

Bella impatiently taps the toe of her high heeled shoe against the hardwood floor of her living room. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she walks to the foot of the stairs.

"We're going to be late!" she calls up to her parents. "It's rude to be late, you know!"

She hears her mother and father talking, but gets no response. Huffing, she walks over to the mirror above the fireplace and checks her reflection for the hundredth time.

Nothing has changed from the last time she checked her appearance. The minimal makeup she wears, courtesy of her mother, accents her large brown eyes and adds a rosy hue to her lips and cheeks. With accordion-pleated ruffles that layer its skirt, the knee-length, v-neck dress does lovely things to her creamy skin.

It feels good to look and feel pretty, and the nervous energy that bubbles in Bella's stomach makes the night seem all the more special. At last, the Fall Dance has arrived, and she couldn't be more on edge.

Sighing, Bella walks over to the living room window and pulls the curtain aside. The streetlights illuminate the road in front of her house and everything is peaceful, calm.

A different light illuminates the road for a moment, a bright rectangular formation. It comes from the open front door of the Cullens' home, a box of shadows that transform into two teenagers coming down the front steps.

Edward's white dress shirt stands out in the darkness, as does the pale pink dress of the girl he's with. They walk to the Volvo that sits out front and Edward opens the passenger side door for his date to climb in.

Bella smiles at the gentlemanly gesture, but the smile doesn't come easily.

There's an inexplicable twinge of sadness that taints the smile and deprives it of sincerity. She doesn't quite understand why the sight of Edward would suddenly make her feel so down, especially on a night such as this.

"I miss Ben," Bella sighs, banishing the sadness with her own explanation.

Yes, that must be it.

She misses Ben.

* * *

><p>The gymnasium of Forks High School is designed in a way that the Party Committee hoped would come off as magical and otherworldly. Fake trees are lined up against the walls, wrapped in sparkling lights as metallic leaves in shades of gold and bronze hang from the ceiling.<p>

The scene is sad in its mediocrity, and this is a fact that the attendees of the Fall Dance are intent on pointing out.

Bella, Alice, and Edward are part of the students attempting to enjoy the party, though they are nowhere near each other.

Alice has managed to sneak Jasper in, and the two are huddled in a corner, lips locked. It's the best place to hide from the chaperones.

Finally having given the poor girl a chance, and also because she had cornered him, Edward is accompanied by Angela Webber. The two make polite conversation by the table of snacks. Though Angela has no eyes for anyone other than Edward, looking uncharacteristically handsome in the white shirt, black pants and black tie, Edward's own eyes keep flitting across the gym.

Across the gym, where a certain Bella Swan is in the arms of Ben Cheney.

* * *

><p>Bella, smiling and happy, is slow dancing with the captain of the soccer team.<p>

"Did I tell you how hot you look tonight?" Ben asks, grinning down at Bella as they spin on the dance floor.

Bella blushes, choking on a laugh. "Um, you said I looked 'pretty'."

"That, too," Ben laughs, ever the charmer.

* * *

><p>Angela is dragging Edward into the mesh of moving bodies.<p>

"I don't want to stand there all night," she whines.

Edward, looking at her warily, can do nothing but comply with her wishes.

Angela's been… _different_. His acceptance of her proposal has caused her confidence to go through the roof. All evidence of the shy girl that could barely talk while looking at him is gone.

She is quick to wrap her arms around Edward's neck, and Edward is only slightly uncomfortable with her proximity.

Briefly, his eyes meet Bella's from a couple feet away. She gives him a bright smile and he returns one of his own, though he's doubtful about its authenticity.

No, Angela is not the one he wants to be holding in this moment. There is someone else, far more beautiful, who he can't keep his eyes off of.

"Am I the only one feeling awkward right now?" Angela says, laughing nervously. The sound of her voice momentarily recaptures Edward's attention.

"Negative," Edward says, smiling kindly. "I'm not much of a dancer. Sorry."

Movement at the corner of his eye pulls his gaze back to Bella, who is now being led off the floor by Ben. They huddle in a corner and Edward looks away, sure that they're about to make out.

* * *

><p>"Can I ask you something?" Ben says. "Your folks are probably still at my house. Mind if I come over?" He smirks and the action seems so suggestive.<p>

Bella's stomach twists uncomfortably.

"I don't know…" she begins uncertainly.

"C'mon," Ben coaxes. "We'll watch a movie or something. We'll just chill."

Bella hesitates, her mind whirring. "But what if they come back early?"

He snorts. "I saw my mother take out her antique miniatures collection. Your parents are going to be there for a while. Besides, if they do come early, we'll just say that the dance sucked so I brought you home and stayed with you to keep you company. No big deal."

Bella eyes him tentatively. "So you want us to lie?"

He shrugs. "Sure. It's really no big deal, Bella."

He reaches up and strokes her cheek with his thumb, and Bella fights the urge to cringe away. She's just not used to Ben touching her this way.

Bella doesn't feel right about Ben's suggestion. She's nowhere near comfortable bringing him home when her parents aren't around. However, a part of her wants to go ahead and do it, just to feel like a normal teenage girl for once.

She wants to do it, just to show Ben that she's not just a sheltered, aloof girl desperate to break away from her controlled life.

Even though she knows that's exactly what she is.

Still, Bella can't quite get rid of the feeling of foreboding she's getting, and her eyes unintentionally fall on Edward.

He's not looking at her. He's chatting with Angela, visibly laughing at something. Bella warms at the sight, liking his smile.

"Well?" Ben prompts.

She gets a different feeling when she looks at Ben. It's an odd kind of nervous-excitement, the kind resulting from high school crushes alone. It's almost a sense of unease about what he'll say or do next, and how she can respond in the best possible way to make him like her more.

She knows that letting him go home with her will probably make him happiest, but the feeling in her gut is just too strong.

* * *

><p>Across the room, Edward is watching them again.<p>

Ben looks upset about something and Bella seems to be trying to reason with him, her expression distressed.

There is a moment where Ben and Bella just stare at each other- Ben with frustration as the prominent feature on his face, and Bella with apology.

A few more words are visibly exchanged, and then Ben says something that makes Bella's jaw drop.

When he turns and walks away, Bella stands in a state of shock, eyes beginning to pool.

Edward watches as she furiously wipes a tear from her face before turning and stalking out of the gym. Only a part of him is aware that Angela is speaking, her arms tightening around his neck.

"Edward? Edward!"

He startles slightly and pulls his gaze away from the door that Bella disappeared through.

"Sorry," he murmurs, stopping the awkward swaying of their bodies.

"What's wrong?"

She's too close for comfort. Her mouth is mere inches from his, and she notices this as well.

Slowly, she lifts her chin, eyes on his lips.

Edward knows what she wants, but he can't give it to her. He can't kiss her when his mind is on another girl and another pair of lips. Angela's lips look all wrong. They're too thin, too wide, not plump enough and not pink enough.

They're not Bella's.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again, stepping away from her. Her arms drop and fall limply to her sides. He doesn't like to hurt anyone, but there's one person he'd hate to hurt most of all.

"I have to go," he says softly. He offers Angela another apologetic smile before gently shouldering his way through the other dancers and heading towards the exit.

He sees a chance.

He sees a chance to finally prove to Bella that he's the one that cares. More than just to make sure she's okay, Edward wants to take this opportunity to make himself a stable fixture in her life- a shoulder to cry on, a confidant, a best friend. He doesn't just want to be that nerdy guy friend.

He wants to be important to her.

* * *

><p>Bella sits on the floor, just down the hall from the gym. She's seated herself next to a row of lockers, back against the wall. The hallway is dark and quiet, save for the muted hum of the music coming from the gym and the sound of her sniffling.<p>

Ben's parting words are ringing through her head.

"_Damn it, Bella. Why are you being so lame? I thought you were cool."_

He had said it almost as a joke, though there was a harsh, frustrated undertone to it that didn't go unnoticed.

More than hurt, Bella's tears come from anger. Not only is she angry with him for being a jerk, but she's angry that he's found her soft spot of insecurity. The vulnerable spot that aches at the thought that maybe she _is_ a lame girlfriend.

Footsteps approach and Bella turns her head, glad that it's only Edward. She doesn't want anyone else to witness her embarrassing breakdown over something so trivial.

Edward approaches her slowly, hands in his pockets. His expression is sympathetic and he doesn't say anything, knowing that she needs his presence more than she needs his words.

Silently, he sinks down next to her, leaning his back against the closed door of the classroom behind him.

They sit in silence for a moment, neither looking at the other. Edward pulls his knees up and rests his forearms on them, staring at the walls as though they fascinate him. The only sound is that of Bella's quiet sniffling and the music in the distance.

Bella doesn't know why, but Edward's presence makes her want to cry even more. Something about him being here for her, when her own boyfriend- if that's what he really is- doesn't want to be makes her twice as emotional.

Slowly, she scoots closer to Edward until she can put her head on his shoulder. He doesn't react.

Bella's scent washes over him and he inhales deeply, trying to be as indiscreet as possible. He tries not to move, afraid that if he does so too abruptly, she'd lift her head.

Edward revels in this moment, when Bella has her head on _his _shoulder and not Ben's. She's sitting next to _him_, not Ben. She's seeking comfort in _him_, not Ben.

Finally, Bella breaks the silence.

"Edward?" she says softly.

"Yes?"

"Do you think I'm lame?"

Edward frowns. "Of course not. Why do you ask?"

"Well, apparently Ben thinks so."

"Ben is an imbecile." The words come out harsher than he intended. His thoughts are quite close to his tone of voice, though that's a fact he doesn't want to make obvious.

Bella lifts her head to look up. "I really like him."

Edward sighs. "I know."

"He's not an imbecile."

Edward meets her gaze, his eyes a deep emerald in the dim light of the hallway, "And you're not lame." He hesitates, watching her carefully. "Would you like to tell me what happened in there?"

Bella sniffs. "Ben wanted to come over since my parents aren't home. I wasn't comfortable with that. He called me lame and that he thought I was cool."

Edward scowls. "He shouldn't call you 'lame' merely because you don't want to do something that he does. And he couldn't come up with a better word than_ lame_? Really? Doesn't he have more than a sixth grade education? He definitely _is_ an imbecile."

"Stop calling him that."

"Okay, let me rephrase. He's not an imbecile; he's a person of subliminal intelligence."

"Now you're just defining it."

Edward's answering grin is bright in the slight darkness, and Bella can tell he's not going to change his opinion on her maybe-boyfriend.

She sighs and leans her head back against the wall. "Why do relationships have to be so hard?"

"I don't think relationships are hard," Edward says with a shrug, the grin fading. "It's the people in them that make them complicated."

"I don't know how I'm complicating things," Bella says frustratedly, eyes welling up with new tears. "We were having a good time, just like I imagined we would, and then everything just fell apart because I chickened out. I feel stupid. What did I do wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing," Edward replies. "You are implausibly intelligent, and you did the right thing by turning him down. If he thinks you're lame, that just shows you where his priorities lie. Perhaps he doesn't have the most honorable of intentions…"

Bella shakes her head, wiping away new tears. "No, Ben's not like that. He's really sweet, but he's still… a guy." She shifts uncomfortably.

"If he can't control his savage urges, he doesn't deserve you. Don't let his imbecilic behavior get you down ." He licks his lips, hesitating before continuing in a much quieter voice.

His eyes drift over her dress before landing on her eyes. "Besides, you're far from lame. He'd have to be a blind man to not see how enamoring you are. Inside and out."

_Enamoring._

"You really mean that?" Bella asks tentatively.

"Absolutely."

Bella feels her heart warm, though that doesn't last long.

Why didn't _Ben_ find her enamoring? Why wasn't _he_ sitting here with her, getting her to stop crying? Her thoughts bring more tears to her eyes, which then leads to anger.

Edward watches her expression fall and her eyes glisten, knowing exactly where her thoughts have gone.

He nudges her with his elbow. "Shall we return to the dance and demonstrate that you don't need him to have fun?"

Bella sniffs and wipes the corners of her eyes before the wetness can pool over. "No. I'm beginning to think dances aren't my thing."

Edward offers a half-smile in understanding. "I concur."

"He was my ride, though," Bella sighs.

"I can drive you home." Edward tries not to sound as eager as he feels. On the inside, he's grabbing her, throwing her over his shoulder, and running to the car.

"What about Angela?" Bella knows how hypocritical it is of her to allow Edward to leave his date after her own pretty much ditched her.

"She knows," Edward mumbles.

He's suddenly on his feet, wiping dust off his pants and then holding his hand out for her.

Without a second thought, Bella places her hand in his palm, letting him pull her to her feet.

* * *

><p>The Volvo rolls to a slow stop in front of Bella's house and Edward smiles as he shuts the car off.<p>

"I guess I'll see you later?" he asks.

Bella bites her lip, contemplating something. Her parents have yet to arrive, and she doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts.

Being alone with Ben would have made her uncomfortable, but Edward? No, there's nothing wrong about Edward. If anything, she trusts him. She _knows_ him.

"Do you want to come inside?" she finally asks hesitantly. She's not sure if he'll say yes, though she really hopes he does. "I just don't want to be alone before my parents come home. You know, over-thinking is dangerous for me."

Edward stares at her for a moment, swallowing audibly. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

Bella waits for his response as rejection washes through her once again.

No one wants to be around her tonight.

"You don't have to," she whispers, not trusting herself to speak any louder.

"I'll come in," Edward says quickly, looking oddly nervous. "Let me just park in my driveway."

A few minutes later, Bella is letting him into her house for the first time.

Once inside, she is pulling her jacket off and hanging it on a coat rack in the foyer. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

Edward stares, surprised. "To your room?"

Bella rolls her eyes. "No, my parents' room. Of course my room, silly. Where else? Besides, I want to show you something."

She turns away from him and sprints up the steps, leaving him to follow in her wake with slow, dazed steps.

Bella walks into her room and immediately pulls out a t-shirt and shorts to wear to bed. By the time she's gathered her things, Edward has made it upstairs. He pauses in her doorway, looking around with curious eyes.

"I'm gonna go change," she informs him, and he merely nods as she glides past him to go out into the bathroom.

Once she's gone, Edward takes a deep breath. He walks further into the room, pushing his glasses up and taking cautionary steps forward.

Her scent is everywhere.

His eyes roam amongst the fairy lights she has strung to the beige-pink walls, the window seat covered in fluffy pillows, the stuffed animals, and the bookshelf. He notices the shelf just above her bed, the one that is home to several of her journals.

Numerous nail polish bottles rest on her vanity table, including the shimmering bronze color that she chose to wear in honor of the dance.

Pens lay in random spots in the room, and Edward chuckles quietly, walking towards the window. It's strange for him to be standing in Bella's point of view. The distance between their rooms seems even closer from here.

When Bella returns, dressed in her bed clothes, Edward turns and appraises her briefly, his eyes lingering on her legs for a lot longer necessary.

"That's better," Bella sighs happily, draping her dress over the chair at her vanity. She gets on her bed and sits cross legged, giving Edward a funny look. "Why do you look like that?"

Edward swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. "Like what?"

"Like you're scared out of your mind."

Edward chuckles nervously and pushes his glasses up. Suddenly feeling very hot, he takes his jacket off and folds it over his arm.

Almost like he's scared the bed will collapse under his weight, he gently perches his behind on the edge of her mattress.

Bella laughs. "What's up with you?"

He shakes his head, trying to come off as being as casual possible.

"Your room is fairly analogous to how I pictured it," he says, abruptly changing the topic.

"Analogous?"

"Similar," he explains. Realizing how creepy he sounds, he quickly backtracks. "I mean, not that I've imagined it often. I don't sit around and think about what your room looks like. I, uh, just meant that-"

"I know what you meant, Edward," Bella reassures him, trying to suppress a laugh. "You think we should have told Alice we were leaving?" she asks a little more seriously. "I feel kind of bad."

"She won't be concerned."

"How old is her boyfriend, by the way? He looked like he's in college."

"That's because he's twenty-one."

Bella gasps. "But Alice is a minor! Isn't that illegal?"

Edward shrugs. "The age of consent in Washington is sixteen."

Bella shakes her head, baffled and a little disturbed. "It still feels a little wrong."

"It's Alice," Edward explains with another shrug.

"Have you met Jasper?"

"Briefly."

"What's he like? He looked so… unapproachable."

"He's not exactly the most verbose of individuals."

"I guess that makes them a good pair, then."

Edward frowns. "It's okay. Highly cheerful people die younger, anyway."

Bella's eyes go wide as saucers. "There cannot be any real evidence behind that."

Edward looks abashed. "There was this study following children from the 1920s to old age, and…" He trails off, seeing the horrified look on Bella's face. "You know what? Forget I said anything."

He chuckles nervously and looks everywhere except at her, pretending to be further interested in the way she's furnished the room.

"You have a lot of journals," he comments, eager to break the silence.

Bella nods, smiling as she picks up the one on her nightstand. "I write more than I read."

"I can tell."

"Oh!" Bella is suddenly sitting on her knees, so quickly that it startles Edward and makes him lean back with wide eyes. "I remember what I had to show you."

She reaches up to the shelf above her bed and pulls down a purple, suede-bound journal. Her demeanor changes instantly as she nervously looks down at the book and opens it to a certain page.

"Hey, Edward? If I let you read something, will you be honest and tell me your thoughts without making fun of me?"

His curiosity peaks and he nods, "Of course."

Bella bites down on her lip and tosses the open journal onto his lap before leaning against the headboard and closing her eyes. She doesn't want to see his expression if he ends up thinking it's the stupidest thing he's ever read.

Edward glances at Bella in amusement before turning his attention to the journal in his hands. Her flowing cursive is written in pink ink, but he reads with an above average speed.

Minutes pass.

The room is silent except for the flutter of the pages as Edward turns them. It's almost comforting, and Bella finds her mind drifting.

"Bella, this is…" Edward's voice makes her jump slightly and she opens her eyes, blinking. He's staring down at the journal, a look of mild awe on his face.

"This is remarkable," he finally says, looking at her.

Bella feels her stomach flutter and pride well up in her chest. The pessimistic side of her wants to think that Edward is just saying that to be nice, but she also knows that he wouldn't lie to her.

"You think so?" she asks, sitting up straighter.

"I know so," he replies. "You have wonderful prose, and your narrative is really good. You obviously write more from your heart than your head. The characterization for such a short story is fantastic, and you really have a way with words. You sucked me in."

Bella doesn't know what to do with the compliments. She's heard various teachers say nice things about her writing, but no one's ever said that much.

"You might even want to consider expanding this into a novel," Edward adds, smiling lopsidedly.

Bella laughs. "Okay, now you're just being nice."

He shakes his head seriously. "I'm not. Really, Bella. You're talented." He brandishes the journal. "You could do great things with these words."

His own words bring tears to her eyes. This time, they're happy tears.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," Edward says nervously, scooting closer to her. "I'm sorry."

Bella laughs, wiping a tear. "No, these are good tears, I promise. No one's ever said that about my writing. My parents think it's a joke, and it always hurts because I put my heart and soul into it, you know?"

Edward smiles sympathetically, unknowingly but comfortingly putting a hand on her bare knee. "I'm sorry you have to go through that."

"I just wish they'd be more encouraging," Bella sighs. "It's the only thing I'm passionate about, and they're always telling me how I'm going to go nowhere with it."

For the next few minutes, Bella talks and Edward listens.

All the pent-up frustration she's had with her parents comes pouring out. She can't stop. Besides, it feels good to vent to some_one_ instead of some_thing_. Writing her feelings down doesn't feel as therapeutic anymore.

By the time she's done, she's ready to collapse from emotional exhaustion.

"You don't need their support to do this," Edward says gently. Having been dormant for so long, the sound of his voice is new and pleasant to her. "Sure, it would be nice, but it's not essential. The only way you'd get anywhere with this is with your _own_ motivation."

"I suppose you're right."

"I tend to be," he responds, smirking.

Bella's melancholy expression doesn't change. Her lips remain curved downward, her brows slightly furrowed in gloomy contemplation.

"Hey," Edward says, poking her knee. "Smile. It releases endorphins and you'll immediately feel better, even if it's fake."

Reluctantly, Bella smiles and soon finds herself laughing for no reason.

"Bella?"

The two jump at the sound of Renee's voice, eyes widened at each other.

"Crap!" Bella squeaks, flapping her arms. "Hide!"

Startled, Edward jumps to his feet and frantically searches for a place to take shelter. He ends up dropping to the floor and sliding under the bed mere seconds before Renee walks in.

Renee pauses with the door open, eying Bella's bedroom suspiciously.

"You guys are back early," Bella says cheerfully.

"Yes," Renee says, frowning, but she doesn't elaborate. "Did you have a nice night?"

Bella doesn't know if she should tell the truth or lie. She chooses to lie, only to get her mother out of her room and Edward out of the house.

"It was good," she says simply, nodding and hoping that her smile is convincing.

"Whose is that?" Renee asks. Bella follows her gaze and blanches when she realizes that her mother is looking at Edward's jacket.

"Ben's," the lie falls from her lips immediately, and her mother looks at her. "I was cold, so he gave it to me."

Renee surprises Bella by smiling. "Oh. That's nice. Did he drive you home?"

"Yes." It's another lie that falls effortlessly, born from her desire to protect Edward.

Renee nods and begins to step out. "You should go to bed. It's late. Don't forget to say your prayers."

Bella nods and lets out a huge sigh of relief when the door shuts. Stepping off the bed and walking to it, she clicks the lock shut.

Edward is still halfway under the bed, but his torso is out as he leans on his elbows. "Is it safe?"

"Yeah," Bella whispers. "That was a close one."

Edward awkwardly clambers to his feet, dusting his clothes off. Bella observes how the front of his shirt is untucked and rumpled, and the sight is oddly endearing.

"How do I get out?" Edward whispers. "Is it possible to go out the front door?"

"I don't know," Bella says nervously, wringing her hands. "My Dad is probably in the living room right now. He always watches TV to unwind after going somewhere with my mother. There's no way you'd be able to get past him."

"Back door?"

Bella shakes her head. "The end of the staircase is right in his line of sight."

Edward adjusts his glasses and sighs, his eyes falling on the window.

"That's not safe," Bella hisses, immediately knowing his train of thought.

"I don't have another choice, do I?" Edward asks, grimacing.

"Stay until they go to bed," Bella suggests, really liking that idea. "You can read some more of my writing!"

She can tell that the idea tempts Edward, but the look of reluctance on his face gives away his choice.

"I wish I could," he says ruefully, "but I have a curfew. Sorry."

Bella's shoulders sag. "I understand."

Edward walks toward her window and puts one knee on the seat as he unlatches it. It slides up and opens easily, and he sticks his head out to see if he should risk it.

"This isn't too bad," he says, voice muffled by the outside air. "I think I'd be able to make it."

Bella feels anxiety churn in her stomach. "Edward, I really don't think you should do this. You could get hurt."

"I used to climb trees a lot when I was younger."

Bella's surprised by this. Edward doesn't look like the tree-climbing type.

"Really?"

Edward nods, smiling shyly before looking out the window. "The distance doesn't seem problematic. The branches fan out far enough, and the fall wouldn't be particularly perilous. Luckily, it's all grass down there."

"How can you be so sure?" she asks, voice cracking with nerves.

"I just measured it."

Bella stares at him, baffled. "Measured what?"

"The height and width of the space between our windows and the probability that I'd land dangerously… It's perfectly safe, I assure you."

Bella doesn't know what to say. She knows that Edward's quite capable of measuring things with his eyes alone, but she still doesn't want him to risk it.

"Let me just call Maggie and tell her to open the window," Edward mutters, pulling his phone out. "She should be in bed, though she's probably awake drawing or something."

"Your seven year old sister has a cell phone?"

"It's one of those kid phones used for emergencies if they get lost and such. Other than my parents, I'm the only other person able to call her, what with all the parental controls on it."

Bella only nods in response, the anxiety forming a knot in her throat.

Edward speaks to Maggie for less than thirty seconds, and they both watch as the light to Edward's room turns on. The little blonde head of hair is visible, and the two friends observe as it moves first to Edward's desk, and then to the window.

Maggie has dragged Edward's desk chair over to the window, and is now kneeling on it to better reach the latch. Dressed in her pink PJs, she grins at the two of them before complying with her brother's wishes and sliding the window open.

"Hi, guys!" she yells across the distance.

"Shhh!" Edward hisses, putting a finger to his lips.

Maggie clamps a hand over her mouth and Edward motions for her to move away from the window.

With one glance towards Bella, he knows she's still worried sick.

"I'll be fine," he assures her softly. With that, he turns and climbs onto the window seat.

"Wait!" Bella cries out, running halfway across the room.

Edward turns just in time for her to fall into his arms. Taken aback, he stumbles a little and has to brace himself with an arm on the windowsill.

Bella hugs him tightly. "Thank you for cheering me up tonight."

Edward is silent, still stunned. All he can think about is that he and Bella are chest to chest, and her arms are around his neck. Finally.

She smells like pomegranates and it takes everything in him to not bury his nose in her hair.

Edward clears his throat, tentatively hugging her back. "You're welcome."

Bella pulls away, face etched with worry. "You're really going to do this, aren't you?"

Edward smiles and nods, no sign of concern on his face.

Bella sighs and steps back, anxiously chewing on her lip as Edward leans his torso out.

Holding her breath the entire time, her wide eyes watch his every move.

Edward reaches up to grab a thick branch, testing its strength before putting more of his weight on it. Once he's satisfied, he reaches his other arm out and grabs hold of another branch. Slowly, he removes his legs from Bella's window seat so that he's affectively dangling in the air.

Bella gasps as Edward's entire weight is on the branches. He's bobbing up and down in the air, but he doesn't stop. Grunting and panting, he reaches for branch after branch. He's all awkward movement and dangling limbs, and Bella's heart feels like it's going to pound right out of her chest.

She hears him swearing, knowing that his hands are probably getting scratched up.

There's a moment where there's a terrifying snapping sound and Bella has to cover her mouth to keep from screaming. Before anything can happen, Edward changes course and switches branches.

For a moment, she loses sight of him amongst the leaves, but she's able to let out a relieved breath when she sees his arm come in contact with his windowsill.

Seconds later, Edward is falling into his room with a loud thump and Maggie is jumping up and down and clapping.

Bella watches as Edward stands up, wincing. She knows he's hurt, and she feels terribly guilty.

"Sorry," she mouths.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he mouths back, and Bella nods.

"Goodnight," she says, knowing he'll faintly be able to hear her.

Edward smiles. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I hope you guys enjoyed the semi-fluff!

_Harvest Moon _is a glittery bronze by China Glaze. Pretty sure it's a part of the special Hunger Games collection. How appropriate for this week! *cough*TeamPeeta*cough*

Come stalk me on Twitter- I'm **xNimC** on there as well. I know the links on the profiles still don't work yet, because we all know how big of a douche this website can be, which is why I'm working on setting up a blog where I can link to cool stuff. I'll keep you guys posted on when that's ready.

See you next week! Until then, paint those nails! :)


	7. Picket Fence

**A/N: ** Lots of hugs and kisses and gropes for all you beautiful readers and reviewers! I love hearing from you!

All the credit of beta-ing and pre-reading this baby goes to **Pinkaquaclouds** and** lyleslove294**. They rock my knee socks off!

Okay, it's going to be a bit of a roller coaster from here on out. Hold on tight!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Picket Fence<strong>

Despite the mild heartbreak Bella suffered the night of the dance, she finds herself feeling oddly content the following morning.

She hums as she showers and by the time she's done painting her fingernails a shimmering shade of white, she's singing at the top of her lungs, all without music.

"Morning," Bella trills happily as she skips into the kitchen. She reaches up to grab a cereal box, still humming quietly.

"You're awfully chipper this morning," Renee observes, smiling from her spot at the sink. "I take it you had a nice time last night?"

Bella keeps her eyes tactfully placed on the sugary goodness that pours from the box to her bowl. "Yup," she responds. She doesn't mention that she really _did_ have a nice time, though it was in her room and not at the dance.

Charlie sips his coffee and eyes Bella over the rim of the cup as she sits across from him. "I'm assuming Ben treated you right?"

"He was fine," Bella replies, careful to keep her tone light. She stuffs a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and chews slowly as an excuse to not speak.

"What time did he bring you home?"

Bella begins to grow paranoid that her answers to these simple questions are being analyzed, word for word.

"I don't remember the exact time," Bella says after swallowing. "It was a little before you guys got home."

Charlie raises his brows. "So, earlier than planned?"

Bella nods. "Yeah, the dance in itself was lame."

"I thought you said you had a good time."

_Oh, crap. Gotta be careful, Bella._

She mentally chastises herself before backtracking, "I mean, we still had a good time, but it wasn't as awesome as we thought it would be, you know?"

Her parents already seem to be over the matter as Renee joins the table and mentions something about needing to buy a new frying pan.

Sighing in relief, Bella quickens her eating pace.

"Did Ben call you yet?" Renee suddenly asks, sipping her coffee.

Bella frowns. "Call me?"

Renee's frown is almost identical to her daughter's. "About whether or not he'll be able to take you to the clothing drive." When Bella's confused expression doesn't change, she continues. "The Catholic Church of Port Angeles is having a clothing drive for the homeless, and there's supposed to be some event for youth up there. He was telling us about it at dinner last night, don't you remember?"

"Vaguely," Bella mutters. She had been focusing on making a good impression on Ben's parents and trying not to spill food on herself. She also may have been discreetly ogling her date from the corner of her eye.

Renee sighs and brushes hair out of her eyes. "Well, regardless… He was supposed to call you."

"I don't know if he did; I haven't checked my phone."

"I think it would be a nice experience for both of you. You should join the youth group at Church, actually. Ben's in it."

"You just love Ben, don't you?" Bella hides her annoyance behind a chuckle, but it's true that her mother is beginning to grate on her nerves.

Renee looks at Bella for a long while. "I think he'll be good for you."

The smile that she receives from her mother is so tender and so rare that Bella almost wants to cry. It's like a hallelujah moment, a total miracle.

Bella thinks Ben would be good for her, too, though she hasn't forgotten his harsh words from the night before.

* * *

><p>After her parents leave for Church, Bella hunts down her cell phone. Sure enough, she has several missed call notifications, some dating back to the night before.<p>

Virtually all of them are from Ben.

_**I'm sorry.**_

_**Can you call me?**_

_**I feel really bad.**_

_**Do you want to go to the youth group thing in PA? I wanna make it up to you. Your parents said it was okay.**_

_**Please call me back.**_

Feeling guilty for having ignored her phone for so long, Bella immediately texts Ben to let him know that she will be available for pickup at 10am. He's already apologized profusely, and the mental visual of his repentant, blue, puppy-dog eyes assists in her rapid forgiveness of him.

Once Bella's sorted out the dilemma of deciding what to wear, she begins to pace back and forth in her living room. She anxiously twists the stud in her ear, one arm crossed over her chest.

_This will be great,_ she says to herself. _He said he's going to make it up to me so he's going to be really sweet. We're going to go to this thing and he's gonna be all nice to the homeless like the gentleman he is. Maybe we'll go eat somewhere afterwards…_

The sound of the doorbell rings through the living room, echoing loudly against the walls. Bella's jogging towards the door in a flash, the heels of her boots loud against the hardwood.

Ben stands with an apologetic expression on his face and his hands shoved in his pockets. The position doesn't suit him for some reason, his arms looking too thin for his bulk when he stands with them so close to his sides.

"Hi," Ben says.

"Hey," Bella tries to act as casual as possible.

Ben's eyes appraise her body, making her feel warm against the cool wind. "You look nice."

'Thanks," she whispers. "You do, too."

He does. The gray dress shirt is a lovely contrast with his hair and it makes his blue pop.

"Do you mind if I come in?" he asks nervously. It's the same question he asked her the night before, though it's asked with hesitancy this time. "You don't have to let me if you don't want to. I just wanted to talk to you for a second. Oh, and I brought you something."

He holds up a medium sized gift bag that she hadn't noticed him holding.

"Oh," Bella stares at it in surprise before stepping aside to let him pass. "Okay, come on in."

As Ben passes by her to enter the house, she catches a whiff of his cologne. It's a strong, spicy scent, not unpleasant, but it makes her nose itch.

She shuts the door with a click, the sound echoing in the room with finality.

Ben hovers in the middle of the living room, his soft features devoid of the confidence he usually wears.

"Here," he says, holding out the gift bag. "Just a little present."

"You didn't have to get me anything," Bella says, peeking inside. She gets excited at the sight of a book and reaches in to pull it out. It's heavier than she expected.

Bella has to balance the book on her arm, a thick copy of _Paula Deen and Friends: Living It Up, Southern Style._

"It's a cookbook," she says in surprise.

"Yeah," Ben says, chuckling. "You wanted to learn how to cook, right?"

Bella stares at him in confusion. "Um… right. Yes! How did you know?" She feels as fake as she sounds, but Ben apparently doesn't notice.

"You seem like the type," he laughs. "You like it?"

"It's great," she says, nodding and clutching the book to her chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says sincerely, and the slightly smug smile he gives her is unexplainable.

"But, listen, about last night…" The smugness is replaced by regret as he trails off with a sad sigh. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said. I was a complete asshole and I _didn't _mean what I said about you being lame. You're more than lame, you're… awesome."

_No, I'm enamoring._

Bella doesn't acknowledge her wayward thought.

She shakes her head. "You don't even have to worry about it. I'm over it."

"How did you get home, by the way?" he asks.

"Edward drove me," Bella says with a shrug.

Ben is impassive before his expression morphs into slight disgust. "Cullen? The nerd?"

Bella finds herself bristling. "Don't label him like that."

"Sorry?" He doesn't sound sorry.

"He saw that I was upset and took me home," Bella explains.

"How upset were you that you asked him to drive you home?" Ben's tone is indifferent, but the strain in his jaw gives away his annoyance.

"I didn't ask; he offered."

This fact seems to interest Ben greatly. "Oh, yeah?" Bella nods, not understanding why it matters. "Huh."

"Besides, I would have had to walk otherwise," she reminds him coolly.

That shuts Ben up, though the apologetic expression is back. Desperate to relieve the tension, she changes the topic.

"So, should we get going?" she asks timidly.

Ben manages a smile. "Yeah, sure."

"Let me just go put that in my room." Bella fails at an attempt to casually brandish the thick cookbook. She almost drops it and then laughs embarrassedly as she pushes past him.

Once upstairs, Bella realizes that she has the urge to pee. Cursing softly, she drops the book on her bed and makes a quick trip to the bathroom. She wouldn't want to embarrass herself by making Ben stop on the drive to Port Angeles.

Having taken longer than she expected, Bella stops in her tracks when she returns from the bathroom to find Ben in her bedroom.

He has his back to her, his head lowered as he looks down at something.

"What are you doing?" Bella asks sharply, her stomach twisting.

Ben turns to face her, Edward's jacket in his hands.

"Whose is this?" he asks. His voice would sound indifferent to anyone else, but the coldness Bella hears behind the words makes her very nervous.

Before she says the name, she can already see things going in an awful direction.

"Edward's," she whispers. Before Ben can say anything else, she's explaining, "We just came up here and talked. That's it."

Immediately, she realizes her error.

"Hang on a second," Ben says, visibly angry now. He tosses Edward's jacket onto her bed. "I asked you if I could come over to hang out and you said no, but you brought Edward to your _room_?"

"Don't say it like that," Bella says, feeling frustrated and upset by the turn of events."It was nothing. I just didn't want to be alone…"

She struggles for the right words, for him to understand, but she fails.

"Do you not trust me?" Ben asks softly, unexpected hurt tainting his features.

Bella opens her mouth to say yes, but finds it impossible to go against her true feelings in this regard.

"Ben, I don't-"

He shakes his head. "Forget it. That's all the answer I need." Looking away from her, he walks towards the door and gently pushes past her to leave.

She's frozen to the hardwood, completely bewildered. By the time she's able to force herself to move and make it downstairs, Ben is gone.

* * *

><p>Bella has approximately two hours before her parents come home, but she knows that she's not supposed to be here when they get back. They'd know that she didn't go with Ben, and telling them the truth would mean exposing Edward's presence in her room the night before.<p>

She's hesitant to call Ben and talk about the whole situation, but the emotional exhaustion she feels weighs her down and keeps her lying face down in bed with her nose in her pillow.

Lifting her head to breathe, her eyes land on Edward's jacket lying at her feet.

Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she sits up.

_I should probably return that…_

Grabbing her phone, she shoots Edward a quick text.

_**Can I come over? -B**_

* * *

><p>Bella is oddly nervous as she braves the chilly October winds to walk to the Cullens' house. She clutches Edward's jacket to her chest as her stomach twists and turns, and a part of her brain is wondering if this visit is a risk.<p>

After she rings the doorbell, she clenches the jacket tightly in her fists, trying to calm her nerves. This wouldn't be her first time meeting the Cullens, but it would be her first time in their house.

The door opens to reveal Esme Cullen, a welcoming smile on her face.

"Edward told us you were coming," she says, stepping aside to let Bella pass. "Come on in, honey."

The term of endearment is a warm caress on Bella's cold skin, and it eases her anxiety.

"Thanks, Mrs. Cullen," she replies softly, stepping inside.

Warm.

That's the word that comes to mind when Bella steps into the home. It's more than just the temperature; it's the atmosphere in itself. It's the colors that the walls are painted, the aromas that come from the kitchen, the sounds coming from the cartoon that Maggie watches in the living room.

It's inviting and it's comforting, a stark contrast to Bella's own home.

"Edward's upstairs," Esme says, putting a hand on Bella's back to show her to the stairs. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"Oh no, I'm fine, thank you," Bella says. "I just wanted to return his jacket."

"His jacket?" Esme pauses.

"He drove me home last night because I didn't have a ride," Bella explains. "He, um, left this at my house."

Bella clears her throat uncomfortably as a flash of surprise crosses Esme's face.

"Oh," she says. "Well that was thoughtful of him." Bella nods in agreement. "Why don't you go on up? His room is the last door on the right."

After smiling and thanking Esme, Bella makes her way up the steps, her boots squeaking against the wood.

When she reaches the landing, she almost crashes down the steps when her body collides with Dr. Cullen's.

"Whoa, easy there," he says, holding onto her arm to steady her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Bella says breathlessly. "I'm sorry."

Dr. Cullen chuckles and lets go of her. "My fault." He raises two large palms in surrender. "I tend to storm down these halls like I own the place. Oh, wait… I do."

Bella barks out an embarrassingly loud laugh, but it's the result of nerves more than anything. Dr. Cullen is intimidating with his towering height and aged face. Bella can see where Edward gets his sharp bone structure, though he's got his mother's eyes and hair.

"I'll leave you alone now," Dr. Cullen says. "Edward's in the last door on the right."

He offers Bella a smile and is descending the steps before she can respond.

Bella wonders how her mother could ever hate these people for their beliefs alone.

A moment later, she's knocking on Edward's door and doesn't have to wait more than two seconds before its flying open. She briefly appraises his dark green sweatshirt and gray sweatpants before smiling sheepishly.

"Edward!" she says with exaggerated cheer. "It's been so long since I saw you last!"

Edward gives her the widest grin she's ever received, revealing his pearly white teeth and the dimples she didn't know he had.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he laughs as she walks inside.

Being inside Edward's bedroom is an odd experience for Bella. It's much cleaner than she expected it to be, though the clutter of books that are thrown here and there comes as no surprise. The walls are painted a blue-gray, the color of the sea on a stormy day, their surfaces clean except for one poster of the human brain.

"Nice room," Bella says, looking around. "I like the color of the walls. It reminds me of the sea. Peaceful."

Edward stays by the door, smirking shyly.

"Blue does have a soothing effect," he says. "It causes the brain to release oxycotin, which calms you."

Bella nods, impressed by the information. She holds out his jacket. "You forgot this."

"Thanks," Edward takes it from her and their fingers brush. Bella doesn't know why that makes her feel fidgety.

Edward tosses the jacket haphazardly into the closet and by the time he turns around, Bella has perched herself on the edge of his mattress.

"So, what's up?" he asks, rolling his desk chair a little towards the bed and sitting down. "To what do I owe the tremendous pleasure of your visit?"

Bella snorts, rolling her eyes. "My folks are at Church. I was supposed to go to this charity thing with Ben, but we got into a fight. Again."

Edward's brows furrow in concern. "A fight?"

Bella groans, falling sideways on his bed so that her view of him is tilted.

"He saw your jacket in my room and flipped out," she mumbles. "I tried to explain that it was nothing, but he wouldn't listen and just left. Why do I keep doing that? Why do I keep messing this up?"

Edward doesn't answer. He has his gaze trained on the carpet, brows furrowed thoughtfully, lips pressed together in a pensive pout.

Bella finds herself observing him, much like she had done on the first day of school.

His hair is longer and messier than it was when she first met him, the mop on his forehead almost reaching his eyes. The way he has his lips pressed together accentuates the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jaw. She already knows that he's fairly slim, but the sweatshirt makes him look just a little bulkier.

He's really very handsome, in an unconventional way. He's handsome in the way that you don't notice at first. When you look at him, _really_ look at him, it's almost striking how attractive he is.

Of course, it's all hidden underneath a mess of thick, penny colored hair and glasses. It's tucked away under baggy clothes and a quiet personality.

It makes Bella wonder what's _really_ underneath it all.

Bella isn't prepared for the moment when Edward finally looks up, his eyes meeting hers so unexpectedly that it makes her jump.

"What exactly happened?" he asks. It takes Bella a moment to figure out what he's talking about, but then she recalls the disaster with Ben.

Rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling, she tells him everything.

About how she woke up feeling good, but then realized she had a last minute date with Ben.

About how Ben showed up and apologized for the night before.

About how she had to use the bathroom but then found him in her bedroom.

About how she always seems to say the worst things at the worst times.

"Oh, and he got me a cookbook," Bella says incredulously. "Who does that? I'm barely sixteen!"

She looks away from the ceiling to find Edward rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling softly. The slightest bit of pink taints his cheek, but it's only noticeable for Bella because of how familiar she is with his face.

"It's not funny!" she says, though she laughs along.

"What a complete fool for getting you a cookbook of all things," Edward says, smirking amusedly. His eyes glint with something she can't explain, but she just laughs and rolls her eyes.

"It's the thought that counts, anyway." The humor dissipates after a while, the sadness creeping back in. "Seriously though, why can't I do anything right when it comes to him?"

Edward silently observes Bella observe the ceiling before he says, "It's not that you can't do anything right. It's just that you're fairly naïve when it comes to the male mind."

"Am not," Bella argues, disliking the word 'naïve'.

"Then you were already aware that Ben was jealous?"

"Jealous? He has no reason to be jealous."

Edward nods to himself, silently agreeing with her.

"It's just how men are wired," he explains. "Feeling possessive is natural, really. It would be unusual if he didn't care at all."

"But he still has a brain, doesn't he?" Bella asks. "Shouldn't he already know that you and I are just friends?"

Edward shrugs, swiveling the chair back and forth in an absentminded manner. "It's what you've told him, but I don't think he knows you enough to believe you."

"Well, that just sucks," Bella sighs. "I really like him."

"Do you really?"

Edward's question is quiet, sounding more like a thought spoken out loud. Bella glances at him and catches the doubtful expression on his face.

"Of course I do," she responds, offended. "Why do you even have to ask me that?"

Edward bites his lip, eying her speculatively, and she feels like squirming under his gaze. Instead, she stays still and waits for a response.

Edward is the first to look away, and he ends up looking at her feet, dangling off the edge of his bed.

"I just wonder sometimes," he mutters.

"I _do_ like him," Bella says adamantly. She feels angry at the implication that she doesn't like Ben. Who _wouldn't _like him? She'd be crazy not to. "He's cute and really sweet-"

"I get it." Edward cuts her off, tone sharp. His neutral expression gives nothing away, though she can't say the same for his eyes.

"What is up with you?" Bella asks, confused. He's broody and visibly irritated; this is not the Edward she knows.

"Nothing," Edward shrugs indifferently before sighing. "Listen, like I said, Ben is a male. More than that, he's a teenage male. Therefore, he has an animalistic desire to claim you as his, and if you so much as talk to another guy, it's going to bother him. It's biology."

"Biology is stupid," Bella mutters. "Biology complicates things."

"It simplifies things, actually." Edward searches Bella's face while her eyes stay on his ceiling. "It's all the over-thinking and the doubt and the human emotions that complicate things."

"That makes a lot of sense," Bella sighs. "I think I do it to myself, too."

"Everyone does."

"God, I feel like I'm at a therapist's office, lying here while you sit there and explain stuff to me." Bella giggles, covering her face. Edward grins at her, swiveling in his chair as he watches her.

"I'm more than happy to be of service," he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.

The two share a companionable silence, the only sound being the slight squeaking of Edward's chair. Bella stares happily at the ceiling, the faintest of smiles on her pink lips. She lies completely still until she sees Edward move from her periphery.

She turns to find him reaching towards her with his right hand, his movement halting when he meets her eyes.

"You, uh, have an eyelash," he whispers hoarsely. When she doesn't stop him, he reaches further until his fingers are so close to her cheek that she can feel their heat.

With a feather light touch, Edward's thumb and index finger brush against Bella's skin. She closes her eyes and feels her cheeks heat under his gentle touch.

It was a brief moment in time, no longer than a second, and yet Bella holds her breath as though she was bracing herself for something bigger.

As she inhales deeply through her nose, she catches his scent. Clean and earthy, fresh and boyish, and surprisingly pleasant…

"An eyelash lives one hundred and fifty to two hundred days before it falls off," Edward murmurs. He's still leaning forward in his chair, Bella's eyelash resting on his thumb. It's miniscule in comparison, light brown and stark against his pale skin.

"That's not very long," Bella responds, staring at his face. She doesn't know why she's doing it, really. She's caught off guard by his proximity, frozen and unsure of what to do, what to say, how to act.

Edward shakes his head, agreeing with her statement, before looking at her again. He, too, is surprised that she watches him, and he begins to lean back, swallowing so that his Adam's apple bobs.

"I should make a wish," Bella says, smiling and trying to cut through some tension.

"You believe that?" Edward asks, chuckling.

Bella shrugs. "You never know."

Edward sticks his thumb out and Bella briefly closes her eyes, wishing that everything between her and Ben will work out for the best, before leaning up on an elbow and blowing on Edward's thumb. The eyelash blows away, disappearing into the air, and Edward blinks as Bella's breath fans his face.

A loud bang makes the pair jump as the door to the bedroom is thrown open with so much force that it hits the wall behind it.

Edward whirls around in his chair. "Alice?"

Alice stands, panting and staring between Bella and Edward in bewilderment. Confusions passes across her face before she stares at Edward, who has stood up in surprise.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Bella can't make out why he'd ask such a thing. Alice only looks surprised, not upset.

However, when Alice bursts into tears seconds later, it's obvious that she can't read faces as well as Edward can.

"Alice," Edward says, alarmed. "What happened?"

Bella sits up anxiously, her eyes on her devastated friend.

"He fucking cheated on me!" Alice screams before she's in Edward's arms. He holds her tightly, sharing a stressed glance with Bella.

"Jasper?" Bella asks, standing up. She doesn't feel part of this moment; it's like there's a bubble around Edward and Alice, a bubble that was there long before she was.

"Obviously!" Alice says, pulling away from Edward's chest to wipe furiously at her tears.

"Shit, Alice, you're bleeding!" Edward says, grabbing Alice's hand. Her fingernails are caked in blood and the sleeve of her shirt rolls up to reveal bloody scratches along her arm. "I'm getting my dad."

"No!" Alice stops him by grabbing his arm. "Don't."

"You need to do something about those cuts," Edward states firmly, prying her fingers off of him.

"Don't tell him what happened," Alice pleads. "Just say that I got in a fight or something, but please, just…"

Edward sighs, nodding, and glances at Bella once more before leaving.

Alice sinks down next to Bella, who puts an arm over her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Alice."

Alice snorts bitterly. "Yeah, we're always sorry, aren't we?"

Bella doesn't know what to make of the statement, but doesn't have the time to before Dr. Cullen is walking in with a First Aid Kit, Edward at his heels.

"Let me see, Alice," he says calmly, like he's done this before. He rolls Edward's desk chair closer to the bed and Bella stands up to give him space.

"I thought you were a sexologist, Doc," Alice jokes, smiling tearfully at Dr. Cullen.

"Yes, well, a doctor is a doctor and we all had to go to medical school,"Dr. Cullen responds softly. "What exactly happened?"

"Fight," Alice says nonchalantly, shrugging.

Dr. Cullen shakes his head. "Alice," he says chidingly.

"I know, I know," is all she murmurs.

Bella stands next to Edward and watches with her arms crossed over her stomach. The day has taken an unexpected turn and she suddenly feels tired.

"When do your parents get back?" Edward whispers to Bella, his lips close to her ear. His breath fans across her neck and she suppress a shiver.

"Around lunchtime. I don't have to be there before them, though. It wouldn't… you know… make sense if they think I went to Port Angeles with Ben."

"You should stay for lunch," Dr. Cullen speaks up, though his eyes are focused on taking care of Alice's wounds. "Both of you girls should stay, actually."

Bella doesn't see anything wrong with the idea. In fact, she'd love to stay for lunch with the Cullens.

After Alice is clean of blood and the scratches are managed, Dr. Cullen leaves to inform his wife of the girls' decision to join them.

When the three friends are alone in the room again, Alice is the first one to break the silence. Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the bitter words are clear as crystal.

"He cheated on me with Carol."

* * *

><p>Lunch with the Cullens is an amusing ordeal.<p>

Esme was more than happy with the additional members of the table, and the atmosphere in which the Cullens, Bella, and Alice enjoy their meal is a happy one. Maggie keeps everyone on their feet with her relentless questions about everything and everyone, and her childlike, exuberant energy is enough to even cheer Alice up.

At first, Bella feels awkward sitting at someone else's table. However, when Edward gives her a reassuring smile and sits down next to her, she relaxes a bit and lets the banter of the family sink into her skin and ease her worries.

Alice sits next to Maggie, across from Edward and Bella, and throws them intense gazes from time to time. Both Edward and Bella are oblivious to her looks, caught up in talking about one thing or another.

Edward tells Bella some interesting facts about macaroni and cheese, and Bella elbows him when he tells her something particularly gross.

Alice isn't the only one keeping an eye on Edward and Bella.

Esme and Carlisle exchange smiles and smirks throughout the entire meal, throwing their son surreptitious glances.

A quick glance out the Cullens' kitchen window indicates that Bella's parents have arrived home. By then, she's been at the Cullens' for well over three hours. Everything in her wants to stay for the rest of the day, but she knows that wouldn't be a good idea. Not only that, but it would be more difficult to cover up with a lie.

"I guess I should go," Bella sighs after helping Edward clear the table. Alice is in the living room with Maggie, and the two are playing Alice's modernized version of patty cake.

"If you have to," Edward says disappointedly, placing the last plate in the dishwasher.

"I wish I could stay," Bella sighs.

Edward opens his mouth to say something, but seems to decide against it.

"You're welcome here any time," Esme says as she walks with Bella to the front door. "Never hesitate to ring our doorbell, okay?"

Bella smiles at the warm words, feeling sadder and sadder with every step she takes towards the front door.

"Alice is staying the rest of the day," Esme continues, "so if you want to come back later and if it's okay with your parents, feel free to stop by."

_Doubtful,_ Bella thinks with regret.

"I'll see what I can do," she says instead.

When she's walking the distance between the two houses, Bella's footsteps seem weighted down with the heaviness she's starting to feel inside.

A pang of jealousy goes through her when she remembers that Alice is still there.

There, in the cheery yellow house with the pretty garden and the seemingly perfect family.

There, with the warm environment and the great food and the laughter.

There, with Edward.

And she can't figure out why that bothers her most of all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Picket Fence _is a lovely off-white by Essie.

See you soon! :)


	8. Heart Throb

**Chapter 8: Heart Throb**

Valentine's Day.

It's a bittersweet day, really.

For some, it's just another day of the week. For others, it is a day to revel in the excitement of having a significant other, of giving and receiving and knowing that they are loved in the most thirsted of ways.

And then there are the rest. Then there are those who are overwhelmed by the commotion of it all, those that have no reason to celebrate the holiday, those that become painfully aware of their singleness because of a day on the calendar…

Yes, Valentine's Day could very well be described as the one day of the year where the lost souls give in to the pain of realizing that they are lost.

Edward never cared before. It was merely another day, unfortunately drenched in sickeningly sweet commercial value. He never minded, never reacted to it with anything more than a roll of his eyes.

It's different this year.

This year, not only does he finally begin to feel the heaviness that accompanies being single on Valentine's Day, he knows exactly who he wants as his Valentine.

Edward leans against his locker, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watches Bella across the hall. She holds her books against her chest while she dodges students clutch teddy bears, flowers, and candy.

When she reaches her locker, Bella halts at the sight of the three chrysanthemums stuck to the blue metal. Smiling in surprise, she pulls them off and sees that the three flowers are gently tied together by a bracelet.

Edward watches as she unwinds the bracelet, the one he made with Maggie. The siblings had spent hours with the homemade bracelet-making kit Edward had gotten. Though he had bought the kit for Maggie, he obviously had ulterior motives with its purchase.

Anything is better than a cookbook, after all.

Bella smiles as she slips the bracelet on, a simple creation of shiny pink and silver beads. She turns her wrist and laughs a little, clutching the flowers in her hand as she opens her locker.

Ben Cheney's head bobs above the other students as he pushes his way through the teenage chaos to reach Bella. At the sight of him, Edward's small smile falls and his eyes narrow, a cold twinge of resentment pulsing through him.

Even after Ben's jealous behavior two months prior, Edward wasn't surprised that Ben was able to win Bella back.

Of course, Bella's tendency to see Ben through rose-colored glasses certainly helped his case.

Still, there would be times where the couple would butt heads about certain things and Bella would seek Edward's help. His logical advice and realistic take on situations helped bring her clarity, but it also made him despise himself. Why should he help Bella's relationship with Ben when he wanted her all to himself?

With a spirit that slowly drowns in its own hopelessness, Edward gives in to the masochistic tendency to watch what he can't have.

He watches as Ben surprises Bella with a large bouquet of roses and a big gift bag filled with countless goodies. Bella's eyes grow wide and she throws her arms around him, his large hands resting at her lower back.

When they kiss, Edward decides it's time to turn away.

* * *

><p>"You weren't in bio," Edward says, frowning as Bella joins him at the lunch table. She places her flowers and the chocolate-filled gift bag in between them, and Edward feels sick at the sweet scent of it all.<p>

"I know I shouldn't have skipped class," Bella says guilty. She plops down across from him and he doesn't hear what she's saying anymore. She explains something about Ben doing something special for her, but Edward can only focus on how pretty she looks today.

One side of her hair is pinned up, revealing dangling silver heart earrings that he doesn't remember her wearing that same morning. Her flushed cheeks match the pink cardigan she wears over a lacy, cream-colored camisole. There's light in her eyes, an excitement that brightens her face and makes her look even prettier.

Edward swallows, his throat suddenly dry, and forces himself to avert his gaze.

His eyes land on the bracelet that he made her, resting delicately against her wrist. Better yet, she has the yellow chrysanthemums taped to the strap of her backpack.

That alone is enough to lift his mood.

"…isn't that the sweetest thing?" Bella asks, panting, done with her animated rambling.

She looks happy and excited, and Edward realizes that, believe it or not, he _likes_ seeing her this way. Lighthearted and carefree, she absolutely glows. Even though he's not the reason for that glow, Edward can't help but love the sight of it.

He coughs, nodding and hoping that his disinterest wasn't noticeable. "Very sweet." He eyes the chrysanthemums. "Where'd the chrysanthemums come from?"

"Oh!" Bella sits up straighter as she pulls her bag towards her and gently fingers a petal of a flower. "Is that what they're called? They were on my locker this morning, but Ben says they're not from him. And look, they were tied up in this bracelet."

She holds out her wrist and Edward uses it as an excuse to touch her. As though he's afraid he'll break her, Edward gently takes her wrist in his hand and rubs his thumb across the beads he'd placed less than 24 hours earlier.

"That's nice," he murmurs, gingerly placing her wrist on the table. His fingers brush across the soft skin of her palm, almost surreal in its smoothness. He looks up to find Bella biting her lip, and she glances away when he meets her gaze.

"You know, chrysanthemums are the flowers that represent a secret admirer," Edward tells her, taking a much-needed sip from his water bottle.

"Really?" Bella looks shocked by this information. "Do you think I have a secret admirer who left this?"

Edward shrugs. "It is Valentine's Day, after all."

"Wow," Bella says, eyes wide in awe. "I wonder who it is. This is kind of exciting!"

"Could be anyone," Edward murmurs with a small smile, running his fingers along the edge of the table.

"That's so romantic."

"Is it really?" Edward laughs, a bitter undertone to the sound. "Even more romantic than a bouquet of seemingly fresh roses and a large bag of chocolate?"

"Honestly?" Bella leans forward conspiringly. "Don't tell Ben, but it _is_ a little more romantic. It's so mysterious and straight out of a movie, don't you think?"

There, for the first time, Edward feels smug.

_I'm more romantic than Ben and his generic commercially valued gifts_, Edward thinks with pride. _Take that, Cheney. _

"Want some chocolate?" Bella asks, reaching into the gift bag and pulling out a large heart-shaped box of candy. She also pulls out several bars of chocolate.

Edward raises his brows. "I'm sorry, is he trying to guarantee the decaying of your teeth before you hit your twenties?"

"Oh, stop," Bella chides half-heartedly. "He didn't know what my favorite was, so he got practically everything he could find."

_He's been with you for nearly five months and he doesn't know your favorite chocolate?_ Edward internally asks with scorn.

"So he got the pretzel M&Ms, then?" Edward asks.

Bella's shoulders slump and she gives Edward an odd look.

"No, he didn't," she mutters, frowning briefly. "But there's Ghirardelli and Godiva and Hershey's and Lindt truffles…"

"The average chocolate bar has 8 insect legs in it," Edward casually informs her.

Bella gasps and scowls at him. "Edward!"

"What?" He shrugs, feigning innocence. "It's true! Cocoa beans need to be fermented, so they're put in an earthen pit to rot. Once they rot, they're shoveled out and of course there are going to be insects in them. It's too expensive to manufacture insect-less chocolate anyway, and the FDA even has laws on how many insects are allowed in chocolate."

The expression on Bella's face can only be described as one of pure betrayal.

"How _dare_ you?" she asks incredulously, scowling. If Edward didn't know her so well, he'd have thought that she was genuinely upset. "You can tell me all the gross facts you want about Jell-O and mac n' cheese and jellybeans, but don't you _dare _bad mouth chocolate!" She points a menacing, rosy-pink painted fingernail in his face, and he can't help it.

He bursts out laughing.

Edward throws his head back and guffaws at the cuteness of it all, at Bella's kitten-like fierceness and her complete seriousness when it comes to her beloved chocolate.

Bella's scowl cracks at Edward's laughter, and she fights to maintain the glare she's throwing in his direction. Her poor attempt makes Edward laugh even harder, and she finally succumbs to the giggles.

"Stop laughing at me," she scolds through her own laughter. "I will _never_ forgive you for that!"

"I'm sorry," Edward laughs, reaching under his glasses to wipe a tear. "No, no, I'm not sorry."

Bella narrows her eyes, still smirking slightly, and leans back in her chair with her arms crossed.

She rolls her eyes and rips open a Hershey's bar. "More for me, then."

Edward, finally having calmed his laughter, grins. "Enjoy the ant legs."

"_Edward Cullen, you jerk!"_ Bella practically growls his name and she grabs the nearest thing to throw at him. Consequently, that ends up being a chrysanthemum.

The flower hits Edward in the chest and he catches it.

"All right, all right," he chuckles. "There's a new study that shows that chocolate lovers have fewer strokes. Also, people that eat dark chocolate 3 times a month live almost a year longer than those that eat more or less. There. Feel better?"

Bella sniffs, taking a tiny bite of her Hershey's bar. "A little." She glances around the room. "Where is Alice today?"

Edward sighs at the one topic that is sure to ruin the lightheartedness. "Unfortunately, I don't know. She won't answer my texts."

"Is Jasper still stalking her?"

Edward cringes at the truth that lies in the question.

After the disaster that was Jasper sleeping with Alice's mother, Alice had proceeded to give her boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, the cold shoulder. At first, Jasper merely acted as though it was no big deal, a one-time thing, a stupid mistake.

However, when Alice continued to shun him, he became persistent. He camped out outside her house and followed her wherever she went, begging her to talk to him.

She ignored him, and yet she never told him it was over.

"I've been repeatedly telling her to end it," Edward says, huffing in frustration. "I've always said he's not good for her."

"Maybe she just loves him," Bella says quietly.

Edward shakes his head. "I don't understand how she can love someone so wrong for her."

"You can't help who you love, though."

"Yes, but you need to use a little common sense. He cheated on her with her _mother_. What ignoramus does that? That should have been the final straw. She can't give him the silent treatment forever and expect him to learn his lesson."

Bella falls silent, mulling over his words. Edward can tell that she doesn't quite understand the Alice/Jasper situation. She's only seen Jasper from a distance, and she hasn't known Alice long enough to understand her actions.

Instead, Bella's reasoning for Alice's actions are painted with false romance and a tragic film's worth of dramatic dialogue.

The bell rings, reminding them of their academic duties. Standing up and throwing his lunch tray away, Edward helps Bella carry all her gifts to her locker.

Bella takes the chrysanthemums from her backpack and places them gently on top of her books.

"They might get smashed in the crowds," she explains, smiling softly. "I really wonder who he is, though…."

Right then and there, Edward wants nothing more than to tell her. To just say, "it's me". To turn her around, make her look in his eyes, and just spill out everything. What better day to do it than Valentine's Day?

But no, he can't.

It would be different if he felt that he actually had a chance. If she was single, or if she gave signs that the feelings were mutual. However, telling her the truth would only complicate things, and it would definitely complicate their friendship.

If he loses that, he loses everything.

Including her.

So, instead of admitting that he's the secret admirer, Edward merely reaches for a chrysanthemum before Bella can close her locker.

Tearing off a part of the stem, he discards the longer half and sticks the other part of the flower into her hair. With gentle fingers, he pushes it behind her ear, the bright yellow standing out beautifully against her brown hair.

"I'll see you after class," he says quietly.

He's not a daydreamer, and not someone that forces himself to believe anything he doesn't have evidence for.

Yet, as he walks away, he still can't help but wonder if the way she blushed was a reaction to his gesture, or something more.

* * *

><p>"She's gonna break your heart, kid."<p>

Alice's voice barely registers with Edward as she takes a seat next to him.

They sit on the bleachers outside the Forks High gym, shivering in the cold February air. The soccer team runs around on the field behind the fence and the sound of the coach's whistle joins the sound of the wind.

"Where've you been?" Edward asks, ignoring her comment.

Alice shakes her head. "Irrelevant."

"Not irrelevant." He looks at her, eying her for any red flags. Seeing none, he looks away. "Did you break up with him yet?"

"Yes." The wind almost overpowers her voice.

Edward's head whips toward her, but she stares into the distance and doesn't react.

"That's good," he says. "That's really great, Alice."

Alice shrugs. "He wasn't happy about it." She pulls out a cigarette and lights it, releasing a puff of smoke into the air. The wind blows it in Edward's direction, but he doesn't care for once.

"How are you doing?" Edward asks in concern.

"I'm fine," she says, and he believes her.

In fact, there's no doubt in his mind that Alice really is doing just fine. Generally good at reading peoples' facial expressions, Edward can always catch a lie, especially from someone he's known for as long as he's known Alice.

There's something odd about her nonchalance, though.

"Anyway, what's up with you?" Alice asks, diverting his attention from her. "Is there a reason you're braving freezing temperatures to stare at Bella stare at her man?"

Edward cringes. "No."

Alice watches him carefully. "Did something happen?"

Edward doesn't respond. He's watching the brunette beauty smile and wave at her boyfriend from the fence that separates them from the field. She's so attached to the metal that he half expects her to kick a hole through it and run into the mess of sweaty jocks.

A sharp pinch on his arm makes him wince, and he almost elbows a scowling Alice in the face.

"Ow, Alice!" he says irritably. "Did you really have to utilize your claws?"

"Yes!" she snaps. "Don't ignore me."

"Everything's just fine," he assures her with a mumble. "Well, aside from the fact that I finally professed my feelings to her…"

It's Alice's turn to gawk at him. "You did _what_? You told her you like her?"

Edward nods morosely, his mind flashing back to the scene that took place less than an hour ago.

_As promised, he had waited for Bella outside of her class. It was the one point in the day where Ben wouldn't be accompanying her everywhere, since he had soccer practice. _

_He didn't plan on telling her, really. He had only meant to say hello._

_But then he saw her._

_He saw her with the flower still in her hair and the innocent way she clutched her books to her chest. He saw how she grinned at him like he made her so happy, how she glowed compared to the other, brooding students all around her._

_She was sunshine and girl and friendliness and she was, hands down, the loveliest thing he'd ever seen._

"_Hi," Bella had said, casual as ever._

"_It's me," Edward blurted._

_Bella's delicate brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"_

_Edward could feel the blood drain from his face and he wanted so badly to take those words back. Two simple words, simply two syllables. Two syllables that held his relationship with Bella in their hands._

_He was faced with three choices: Pretend he never said it, pretend he meant something else, or tell her the straight up truth. _

_The first two options were highly appealing, though he only knew that he'd prolong the suffering if he chose them._

_Little did he know that choosing the third option would be cause for the worst kind of suffering._

_Edward swallowed, his mouth dry, and felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat. He cleared his throat, heart pounding furiously, and briefly looked at his feet._

"_It's me," he said again, looking up at her patient face. "The, um, the one who left the flowers… on your locker… and the bracelet. I made it with Maggie…"_

_His voice was barely audible over the hum of the student body, and he didn't feel relieved getting that off his chest._

_As a matter of fact, he felt like he'd just added another burden onto his shoulders._

_The burden of vulnerability. _

_Edward could tell that this new information didn't register with Bella immediately. There was a moment where she stared at him, and her gaze made him feel stripped down to his core. _

"_You're the secret admirer?" she finally asked in a small voice, pure confusion on her face._

_Didn't she believe him?_

"_Yes," Edward responded. His hands had buried themselves deep into his pockets and he tried really hard not to curl in on himself. _

_Bella was speechless. She stared and stared and blinked like a doe in headlights, her brows rising high as Edward's self-esteem fell low. _

_Edward decided that talking was a good idea. It could delay the inevitable rejection he was sure to face._

"_Listen, I just…"The hallway was emptying out now, the students' voices fading into the background as they left the building. "I like you."_

_He implored her with his eyes to understand, to know how hard it was for him to actually admit something like this. There had been no plan, no practice, no assumption of how this would go. Unlike Bella, he wasn't in the habit of imagining the way in which every situation would play out. Therefore, he wasn't ready for whatever would come next, whatever that would be._

"_I like you too," Bella whispered, and he was so stunned that his breathing stalled. The ray of hope that shined down on him for the briefest of seconds was unlike anything he had ever experienced. _

_It didn't last very long, though._

"_But not like that," Bella added a second too late. _

_Edward let out the breath he'd been holding, and with it left every ounce of the fragile confidence he'd worked so hard to maintain._

"_Oh."_

_It was all he could say._

"_I'm sorry," Bella said, and he despised the pity on her face. _

"_Don't worry about it," he assured her. "Now you know, so…" He had never felt so inarticulate._

_Bella chewed on her lip, looking distressed, and to know that he put that expression on her face pained him greatly. _

"_But we can still be friends, right?" she asked hopefully._

_There it was, the final nail in the coffin. _

_The supposed way to make everything all right again._

_Friends._

_Edward had never hated the word as much as he hated it in that moment._

"_Of course," he replied, smiling in what he hoped looked reassuring. Because he knew that to completely sever ties with her would be impossible. _

_Bella surprised him with a hug, an awkward one since she had a book in one hand. To have her so close to him, her pomegranate-scented hair just inches below his nose, was like the calling of blood to a vampire._

_It caused him to stiffen and he wanted to push her away after her rejection, as polite as it had been._

"_Thanks for telling me, though," she said, pulling away and taking a step back._

_Edward could only nod and smile, forcing the muscles in his mouth to comply with his wishes._

"_Do you still want to hang out?" she asked timidly. "I'm going to stop by the soccer field to see Ben for a second, but we can still hang out before my dad comes to pick me up, right?"_

_Edward wanted to say no, but the hopeful expression on her face was just too much. _

"_Sure," he replied, and the grin she gave him almost made the internal suffering worth it._

_Almost._

"Wow," Alice says, looking at him sympathetically. "You just straight up told her, huh?"

Edward sighs. "I don't know what got into me."

"You were blinded by her beauty, that's what," Alice snorts. "Fool."

Edward can't even begin to tell her how much he agrees with her. He definitely is a fool for believing that telling her the truth would have ended all suffering.

"You need to stop now," Alice states, and the firmness in her voice forces him to look at her. She's giving him a serious look, a look that leaves no room for argument.

"Some specificity would be nice," he responds dryly.

"Quit pining after her," Alice says forcefully. "The feelings are not mutual, obviously, so what's the point of sitting here and staring at her like you're going to change her mind by being creepy?"

"I am not being creepy," Edward argues. "We're hanging out after she's done… speaking with him."

"What's the point? She doesn't like you like that."

"I know that," Edward says through clenched teeth. "I was there, and I recall her words crystal clearly."

"What are you, some kind of masochist? Now that you know she doesn't like you as more than just a friend, fucking _let her go_."

He can't.

He doesn't want to.

"Why should I?" Edward asks irritably. "I'm perfectly fine being just friends."

"That shit never works out, Edward. You know that."

"It's fine. I'm fine."

"You are not fine. Do you like being around someone you can't have? Huh? Is that it?"

Edward clenches his jaw and his fists, and Alice knows she's getting to him in a negative way. She softens her tone.

"Listen," she says, scooting closer. "I don't want you to get hurt. I'm doing what you've always done for me. Continuing to be her friend after she pretty much rejected you is a bad idea, Cyclo. You're not going to get anything out of it."

Never before has Edward gone in the opposite direction of logic, of what he knows is true.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be there for her as a friend," Alice acquiesces, "but if you're going to stick around, stop expecting anything else to come of it."

Edward looks visibly upset, a rarity for him. Alice sees this, but doesn't acknowledge it by anything more than a drag from her cigarette and a puff of smoke.

"I'm well aware of my actions," he says, watching as soccer practice ends and Ben runs over to Bella.

"No, I don't think you are." She taps the end of her cigarette, causing ash to trickle down to their feet. "You know, Angela is still single. You should give her a chance."

Edward snorts. "As sweet as Angela is, I'm just not interested."

"Why, because she's not Bella?" Alice asks, not unkindly. "It could work out, you know."

Edward finds himself getting to his feet.

"Tell Bella something came up and I couldn't stay to hang out," he says curtly.

Alice catches his wrist before he can leave. "Edward?"

Edward turns warily to face her again.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," she states, looking up at him with a steely gaze.

"Promise," Edward mutters, and she lets him go.

Had it been any other time, Alice would have had him in a headlock and made him say it like he meant it.

Now, she knows it's no use.

The boy is a goner.

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN: **I know, I know. Slow burn is slow and we all want Ben to disappear forever. At least he told her, right? Have faith! I think you guys will like the next chapter, though. Well, maybe.

Also, I'm (kinda) sorry if I ruined chocolate for anyone, especially around Easter. But don't act like that's going to stop you from eating it! I sure as hell still do, ant legs included! :)

_Heart Throb _is a rosy pink by OPI.

Happy Easter weekend to anyone that celebrates, and I'll see you next week!


	9. Lunar Eclipse

**A/N: ** Hello, beautiful people. Are you still here? Yes? Awesome. Because things are gonna get a little... interesting. :)

As always, this story would be a filthy mess if not for **pinkaquaclouds** and** lyleslove. **They know how to handle the perfectionist in me and I love 'em for it.

Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! Enjoy. ;)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Lunar Eclipse<strong>

The weeks following Valentine's Day are some of the most difficult of Bella's time in Forks.

The looming end of the school year means the approach of graduation for seniors. With the pressure of college applications and exams being pressed on Ben, Bella is forced to spend less time with her boyfriend.

Other than the loss of Ben's presence, Bella must also cope with the aftermath of Edward's declaration.

Bella had been stunned speechless by the revelation, never thinking, not in a million years, that the boy she confided in had something of his own to confess. In fact, Edward was the _last_ person she'd ever expect to harbor feelings for her.

His declaration threw her for a loop and tilted her world on its axis. Suddenly, every second that she had spent with Edward was put under a mental microscope. She searched every moment for signs that his feelings were obvious, signs where he may have tried to open up in other ways.

She couldn't think of a thing.

The guilt that consumed her after seeing the hurt on Edward's face was unexpectedly strong. Making him sad was the last thing she wanted to do, so she hoped that the continuation of their friendship would make him feel better.

She ignored the wall of awkwardness that she could feel building up in between them, and decided that it would be best if they just went back to how they've always been. For her, it was easiest that way.

Because Bella would not admit that she couldn't just take Edward out of her life. While her mind would not admit that she needed his friendship much more than she thought, her heart knew the truth.

Unbeknownst to her, there was also truth in the fact that she hadn't taken off the bracelet Edward made her, nor had she told Ben who it was from.

It is this bracelet that she absentmindedly runs her fingers over during dinner one night. Her parents are discussing something mundane and irrelevant to her life, so she lets herself get caught up in her daydreams.

"It's been a while since Ben came over," Renee says, and the name gets Bella's attention.

"I know," Bella sighs sadly. "He's been so busy with college applications and stuff. Exams, too. He barely has time for anything."

"Do you know where he's applying?"

Bella shakes her head. "Not really, but I know he's aiming for the Ivy Leagues."

"Of course he is," Renee says, smiling smugly. It's quite obvious that she already sees Ben as the perfect son she never had.

"Have you thought about college yet?" Charlie poses the question to his daughter, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm only a sophomore, Dad," Bella says, trying not to sigh in frustration. Ever since Ben mentioned applying, Charlie has been dropping not-so-subtle hints about wanting to know about Bella's college plans.

"Well, sophomore year is going to end before you know it," Charlie points out. "Then it'll be junior year and you'll have to start thinking about it."

"Not to mention applying for scholarships and financial aid," Renee adds with a nod. "Everything takes time. You don't want to stress out at the last minute, do you?"

"There are big decisions to make," Charlie adds. "Where you'll be living, whether or not you'll be working…

"There are some great schools in Seattle," Renee says. "Port Angeles, too. You could go to school there, and that way you could still live here _or _visit often!"

Bella's eyes widen at the suggestion, an absolutely horrendous one at that. One of the biggest reasons she wants to go somewhere far for college is to get away from her parents. To live at home would be suicidal to her sanity.

"Um, I still have time," Bella says, hoping to quash the discussion. But much to her dismay, her father is unable to contain his curiosity at his daughter's expense.

"You gonna take that writing thing to college, too?" he asks, shoving a forkful of casserole into his mouth.

_Not this again,_ Bella thinks dishearteningly. The topic of her future career is one she doesn't like to talk to her parents about.

"Probably," she states curtly, unappetizingly poking at her mashed potatoes.

"Writing is tough to get into," Renee says, and Bella clenches her eyes shut.

"There are so many writing jobs, Mom," she states patiently.

"Yes, but they don't pay much."

"That doesn't matter to me."

"You should go into accounting, like your father."

"Medicine is good," Charlie adds. "You'd make a great doctor, Bells."

"I suck at math and science," Bella states through slightly clenched teeth.

"Or you could go wherever Ben goes," Renee suggests happily.

Her parents continue to throw suggestions at her. _You should do this, Bella. You should do that, Bella. Are you sure you want to do that? You should do this instead. _

They fail to understand that Bella knows _exactly_ what she's going to do. She's going to apply to places far away from home, major in English, get a job in a bookstore part-time and then grow up to write dozens of bestsellers. By then, she'll preferably have married Ben in a winter wonderland themed wedding.

It's a doable plan, a simple one, and she just wishes that they would accept that. Her future is not their choice; it's hers.

That night, Bella goes to bed frustrated. While her goals are generally set in stone, a very pretty stone she'd like to think, talking to her parents about her dreams always makes her second guess herself. While she knows that, ultimately, her choices are hers to make, she can't help wishing that they'd trust her enough to not plan her future for her.

Bella tosses and turns, her future transforming in her mind. What if she majors in something that could offer her a more stable career? Accounting, like her dad, or medicine? Law, maybe? What if she really does decide to live at home while going to school in Port Angeles? That would take the worry of paying for bills and food off her back, unless she can pay enough for dorming…

Angry at her inability to sleep because of her raging thoughts, Bella grabs her phone from her nightstand.

_**I'm over-thinking again. –B **_

She doesn't get a response as quick as she hoped.

_That sucks. Just try and sleep? –Ben_

_**I can't. :( What are you doing? –B**_

_Trying to sleep. Soccer practice early 2morrow. LOL. –Ben_

_**Oops, I'll let you sleep. Good night! xoxo –Bella**_

_Thanks. Night, babe. – Ben._

Bella feels discouraged at the end of the short conversation, her dampened mood getting worse.

Her eyes automatically flit to her bedroom window and she briefly wonders if it would be a good idea to text Edward. She knows he's generally awake at this hour, reading or on his computer.

Bella fiddles with her phone, wondering if she should disturb him. He never seems to mind when she does, and as far as she can tell, their relationship hasn't changed much over the course of a few weeks.

She buries herself under the covers and pulls her pillow out from under her head, choosing to hold it to her chest like a teddy bear. The light from her phone illuminates her little cave as she dials Edward.

"I'm over-thinking again," she mumbles sadly after he answers the phone. His voice sounds a little thick from disuse, and she wonders if she woke him, instantly feeling guilty.

"_What about?" _he asks, no trace of annoyance in his voice.

"Everything?" She groans into the pillow. "It's just that whenever I talk to my parents about what I want to do after high school, they always talk me out of my plans and make me second guess myself."

"_Well, that's not really their decision to make, is it?"_

"No, but they have some good points."

Edward's silent before he says, _"I think you already know what I'm going to tell you, Bella."_

There's something about the way he says her name that she likes. It's odd that he doesn't say it often, but when he does… It's pleasant. It's almost like a term of endearment, the way the two syllables roll of his tongue in quick, melodic waves.

"_Right?" _Edward asks when she doesn't respond.

"You're going to tell me to just ignore them and stick to what I want to do, aren't you?" Bella asks ruefully.

"_Precisely." _

"But what if they're right?" she asks in a small voice. "What if I don't find a job and end up homeless?"

Edward laughs. "_Not likely. Not with your skills, anyway."_ Bella feels her cheeks warm at the compliment. _"Besides, wouldn't you rather get paid very little, doing what you love, rather than get paid a lot doing what you hate?"_

"Yes."

"_Exactly."_

Bella sighs, thinking about how Edward always seems to simplify a situation. Still, he is unable to quell her thoughts. She feels suffocated by them, unable to breathe and rest easy.

"_You're still thinking about it, aren't you?"_

"Can you hear my horrible thoughts from all the way over there?"

"_They're loud and very high-pitched. Seriosuly though, you're going to give yourself Analysis Paralysis."_

"Let me guess- is that when a person over-thinks so much that they become absolutely paralyzed?"

"_Close enough. It's when the over-thinking is so overwhelming that the ability to make a decision is completely stalled."_

"Scary."

"_Very." _There's silence for approximately six seconds before, _"Honestly, woman, give your brain a break."_

Bella groans into her pillow again. "I'm trying!"

"_Do you want to go somewhere?"_

Bella is momentarily confused by the question, so out of the blue and irrelevant to their conversation.

"Um… like, now?" she asks. " It's almost 11:00."

"_Well, it's not a school night," _Edward points out._ "Only if you want to, of course…" _

"Where would we go?"

"_The park? It's just a few blocks away." _

The suggestion is an odd one, especially coming from Edward, but she can't control the excitement that pulses through her. To sneak out so late at night, just to go to the park with him, is something she never thought she'd have the guts to do.

Bella has always been a good girl, an obedient daughter especially, so to do such a thing is almost scary in itself.

"I'm game," she says, tossing both her covers and her qualms aside.

"_Do you have a bike?"_ Edward sounds a tad excited.

"Yes!"

"_Outside in ten minutes."_

Bella's heart pounds with excitement and adrenaline as she feels around for her sneakers. She leaves her sweats on but exchanges the tank top for a thick sweatshirt and denim jacket.

Her bedroom door squeaks as she opens it, and she pauses, listening for movement from her parents' room. Hearing absolutely silence, she quietly shuts the door before tiptoeing down the stairs.

Getting her bike out of the garage is tough. The garage door is barely ever used, so the sound it makes as she opens it is dangerous. She stands there for almost ten minutes, looking out for signs that one of her parents have woken up to inspect the sound.

After no sign of movement from the house, she retrieves her bike and rolls it down the driveway.

Edward waits on the sidewalk in between the two houses, sitting on the bike with one foot on the ground. He smiles when he sees Bella walking her bike towards him, his pale skin standing out in the darkness of the night.

"I was beginning to think you bailed on me," he says quietly. His voice joins the chorus of crickets, and it's a lovely symphony.

"The garage door was loud," Bella whispers, wrinkling her nose.

"Ready?"

Bella shudders in the chilly night air, climbing on her bike next to him. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Edward leads the way, responding with a tiny smirk as he begins to ride away down the dark, damp street. Bella follows soon after, a little unsteady on her bike at first, but she follows the sound of Edward's wheels.

The park isn't far from their houses, only a mere five blocks or so. The streets are scarce of cars at this hour, and the two ride in companionable silence through the brisk night.

Bella feels free in the wind, her hood falling off her head and her hair blowing behind her. The wind slaps sharply against her face, freeing any negative thoughts about the future. All she cares about is the here and now, this moment riding through town late at night with her friend.

It's one of those happy moments she'll store in her mind for when things aren't going so great. One of the carefree moments of her youth, the exciting, the rebellious, the _fun_…

It's only a few short minutes later that Edward pulls up outside the gate of the park. He pauses and waits for Bella to catch up, smiling when she does.

"Well that was a work out," she says, panting and climbing off the bike. "It's been a while, as you can probably see."

She's exhilarated, giddy from the adrenaline, excitement bubbling in her stomach.

"Feel better?" Edward asks, putting the brakes on.

"Lots."

"C'mon, I want to show you something."

Edward shoves his hands deep in his pockets and nods toward the inside of the park. Side by side, they wander past playgrounds and sandboxes and skateboarding ramps. Bella shivers, wrapping her arms around herself and instinctively stepping closer to Edward.

Edward glances down at her and takes a deep breath, hesitating before one arm reluctantly comes up to wrap around her shoulder.

"Wow, you're warm," Bella says, curling her arms around his chest as they walk. She ignores how intimate the moment feels and just revels in the warmth. He smells like he always does- like clean boy and orchard leaves. It's familiar and comforting.

"There's this hill," Edward says, his quiet voice rumbling in the breeze. "When you're at the top, lying in the grass, it's like you're not even in Forks anymore."

Bella looks up at him, her view showing her the curve of his neck and his jaw. Pale in the dark, the angles are sharp and defined, a side of Edward she's never seen.

She likes it.

Edward looks down to meet her gaze, and for a moment the expression on his face is one of pain. Bella chalks it up to being a misperception in the dark.

Unexpectedly, Edward pushes her away. It's a playful push, where he uses his elbow to nudge her away.

"Race you," he whispers.

Before she can even register what he's said, he's taking off into the dark.

Bella stares after him before laughing in surprise. The adrenaline and exhilaration take control once again before her feet are following him, slamming against the pavement as she chases him.

Running uphill is a battle, but not for Edward and his long legs. By the time he's at the very top, Bella is panting and gasping for air. She's not even at the top before she's bent at the waist, hands on her knees.

"Not… fair," she pants. "You and… your freaking… long legs…"

Edward laughs and holds his hand out, pulling her up until she's at the top. She puts a hand on her heart, feeling it pound against her chest as she catches her breath.

"Look up," Edward whispers.

He tilts his head up and Bella follows his gaze, gasping at the sight above her.

Stars.

Billions of them.

They're the brightest she's ever seen, twinkling like diamonds of all sizes. Some sparkle and fade, winking down at them mischievously, dazzling Bella with their beauty.

"It's even better from the ground," Edward informs her.

He doesn't have to tell her twice. Within seconds, she's lying on her back with her arms casually folded behind her head.

"This is amazing," she says, grinning up at him. "And look at the moon!"

The moon stands out against the night sky, but even its size can't overpower the beauty of the stars.

Edward watches Bella laugh with joy. Her hair glows in the moonlight, her translucent skin stark in the darkness.

In that moment, Edward believes that even the magnificent moon and stars would envy the beauty lying at his feet.

"They're more visible in Forks than they were in Phoenix," Bella mutters.

Edward kneels before sitting on his behind next to her. He leans back against his hands and looks up as well.

"You're a Harry Potter fan, right?" he asks.

"Yeah…" Bella trails off and eyes him questioningly, wondering where he's going with this.

"You see that constellation?" he asks quietly, pointing up. "The stars that would look like a snake if you connected them?"

Bella squints at the sky. "No…"

Edward lies down to get her point of view better, his head level with hers. He points up again. "Right there. There are four stars that would look like a parallelogram if you connected them. They're bright."

"Oh, I see them."

"Yes, now connect those to the other brighter stars. See how they form a long, slightly jagged line?"

"I see it, I see it!"

Edward grins at her excitement. "It's supposed to be a dragon, called Draco."

Bella's eyes go wide, the brown glinting. "No way!"

"Yes way."

"That's pretty awesome."

They lie in silence for a moment, just staring at the stars. Edward was right; it's as though they're not in Forks anymore. With their eyes looking nowhere but at the sparkling abyss above them, they see no trees or streetlights or houses or mountains.

Just stars- bright and beautiful and absolutely magical.

Here, in this very moment between the soil and the sky, Bella's never felt so at peace with herself. Here, in the wet grass and next to Edward, she feels comfortable and… happy.

"Thanks for this," she says quietly. She can't quite wipe the smile off her face as she turns her head to look at her friend. "I really needed it."

Edward smirks shyly, pushing his glasses up. "I could tell."

Of course he could tell. He could always tell. For the first time, Bella realizes that no one understands her better than Edward does. He always knows exactly what she's feeling, even when she tries her best to mask it. He knows exactly what to say or do to get her mind off things or to make her feel better.

He makes her smile and he makes her laugh and he makes her think. He makes her see the world in a different light, and he makes her curious.

For the first time, Bella realizes that Edward is the best friend she's ever had.

This realization wipes the smile from her face, though it's only because her lips form a thoughtful pout.

Edward is facing the sky again, and Bella observes his profile in the dim lighting of the outdoors. His pale skin is even paler in the dark, and eerily so. He's gracing a small smile of his own and his hair is off his forehead for once.

Bella blinks at her friend, feeling an odd sense of warmth as she looks at him. She can't quite place what this new and sudden feeling is- all she knows is that how much she cares for Edward runs deeper than she thought.

Edward suddenly turns his head to look at her, and his glasses get crooked from the side of his face being pressed into the ground. Frowning, he removes them altogether.

Bella takes a sharp intake of breath from the color of his eyes. Almost glowing in the starlight, they're a deep, warm green.

"What?" he whispers. He's lying absolutely still, surprised from how close together their faces are. He can see every beautiful, delicate feature of Bella's face.

"Your eyes are amazing," Bella whispers back.

She doesn't know why she's staring at Edward without his glasses on. He looks like a completely different person, someone who looks younger and a little more vulnerable.

Yet, his face also demands her complete attention. Every feature is strong, from his defined jaw line to the flat plane of his forehead.

* * *

><p>Edward's eyes are on Bella's mouth, on the two pink lips that are parted and waiting.<p>

It's rude to stare and he knows that, but he can't look away.

So close.

She's so close.

That's all he can think.

Lips.

Skin.

Eyes.

Hair.

Lips.

Lips.

Lips.

"The longest official kiss lasted 32 hours, 7 minutes, and fourteen seconds," he mumbles. His brain is no longer entirely connected to his mouth.

Bella's brows furrow as she watches and listens.

"A kiss stimulates 29 muscles and chemicals, causing relaxation," Edward continues, never tearing his eyes away from Bella's mouth. His voice is robotic, automatic, like he's reading from a book in his mind. "Your lips are 100 times more sensitive than the tips of your fingers. A real kiss quickens your pulse to 100 beats a minute."

He doesn't know that Bella's heart is already pounding faster than it was a few minutes ago. He doesn't know that his facts about kissing have made his own lips victim to her watchful gaze.

Something changes.

First, there's a shifting in the atmosphere between them.

It's suddenly tense, no longer light and frivolous and carefree.

Everything seems to go absolutely still and time slows down.

The stars stop twinkling.

The wind stops blowing.

The crickets are silenced.

There's no sound but the beating of their hearts, matching in their quick tempo.

It comes out of nowhere.

_He_ comes out of nowhere.

Before she knows it, Bella's got something warm and wet and soft pressing against her mouth**. **She makes a small sound of surprise at the back of her throat, her entire body stiffening as Edward's earthy scent completely consumes her.

It takes her exactly three seconds to know that Edward is kissing her.

It takes her two more seconds to close her eyes.

Three seconds to tentatively kiss him back.

Three to organize her jumbled thoughts.

Four to become aware of her pounding heart.

Three to realize that this is wrong.

Two to realize that this is wrong because she has a boyfriend.

And then three more seconds to gently push him away.

Bella gasps as Edward pulls away, taking in a stalled breath.

The look on his face can only be described as shock, like he can't believe what he's done.

Bella herself can't come to grips with what just happened.

Edward sits up, eying her warily.

For the first time in a while, he doesn't know what to say.

He knows no facts about kissing your best friend.

Bella sits up slowly, and there's something stuck in her hair. Edward's fingers twitch, but he stops himself.

They both know he's changed something between them.

Big time.

"I have to go," Bella chokes out, shakily getting to her feet.

Edward watches in a daze as Bella runs down the hill and out of sight.

She runs for her life, and she doesn't even know why.

She runs past the playgrounds and the sandboxes and the swings. Past all the signifiers of innocent play, of childhood, of fun…

She runs exactly down the path she and Edward had walked less than half an hour ago.

Same path, different situation, a different note in the air.

Her lips are warm and tingly and her heart still pounds as she reaches the gate of the park and lifts her bike up off the ground.

Bella's legs feel weak as she rides into the night. It's like she needs extra effort to pedal, like there's lead sown into her jeans.

She doesn't know why she's riding away from him, or why she suddenly feels sad.

The slight panic inside of her is something she doesn't understand, something she's not sure she _wants_ to understand.

As she turns the corner on her street, she licks her lips.

They taste different.

She doesn't want to think about liking it.

She doesn't want to think about turning and riding back to the park.

She doesn't want to think about what will happened tomorrow, or the next day, or the next…

She doesn't want to think about what this means for her and Edward.

Irrationally, she feels angry towards him. Why did he have to go and kiss her? Why did he have to ruin what they had? Why did he have to change something so valuable to her?

Her anger at Edward vanishes as quickly as it came. Instead, she turns the anger on herself.

Why did she have to run away? Why did she leave him there, all alone?

The best part is that Bella didn't even know exactly how valuable her friendship with Edward was until now.

By the time Bella's able to sneak into her house, the emotions inside of her are so overwhelming that her brain somehow finds a way to turn them off completely.

Instead of sleeping, she sits in the window seat and peeks out from her curtain, waiting for Edward's light to come on to signal his arrival.

The light never comes on, and if it did eventually, she wouldn't know.

She falls asleep with her forehead against the glass.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay. I need to know your thoughts. That will help me predict how you may react to what _else_ I have in store for these two. ;) Keep the faith!

_Lunar Eclipse _is a sparkly royal blue by ORLY. I'm crazy about the sparkles.

Until next time!


	10. Guilty Pleasures

**A/N: **As always, thank you for the kind words and comments pertaining to Bella's naivety. I know, I know. She's getting there. Promise.

All due credit goes to **Pinkaquaclouds** and** lyleslove** for being kickass betas and the best I could have ever asked for.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Guilty Pleasures<strong>

Bella wakes up just a little before dawn, her neck cramped from having fallen asleep in the window seat. The sky is a deep indigo, indicative of the sun that hasn't fully risen. She rubs her eyes for a moment and rolls her neck before the memory of what occurred hours ago begins to dawn on her.

Bella glances at Edward's window and is not surprised to see the blinds still drawn. Her mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, both violently colliding into each other.

_Did he really do that? He did. He did do that. Why did I run? What is wrong with me? Did he even come home? What's going to happen at school tomorrow? I'm so embarrassed. But it's not my fault. It's his fault._

Round and round they go, confused and chaotic thoughts that spin inside her head until she feels dizzy from the effort. Never before has she felt so completely and utterly confused about how she feels about something.

Everything has always been completely simple. Either she likes someone or she doesn't, either she wants something or she doesn't, either she enjoys something or she doesn't.

But Edward's kiss? She doesn't know.

Throughout the day, a Sunday, Bella is unable to focus on anything. In church, she can barely look at Ben and her thoughts wander a lot more than they usually do.

The ache in her neck is still there when she gets home, a constant reminder of what had happened the previous night. Doing her homework is fruitless, as is painting her nails. Her mind is distracted, memories of Edward's kiss a relentlessattack on her mind.

She constantly forgets things or drops things when helping her mother in the kitchen, and then she picks at her food. She's too restless to watch TV, and she can't decide what kind of music to listen to.

By the time Monday rolls around, Bella is less distracted but a lot more anxious.

She feels jittery as she gets ready for school. Much of her anxiety is a result of the fact that she has to face Edward today. She doesn't know how he'll behave, and her mind conjures up the worst possibilities.

Bella can barely swallow her breakfast, each bite feeling thicker than the last. Her parents' voices sound too happy to her, and the drive to school is much too short.

"Hey, you."

Ben's voice makes Bella jump. She's just turned a corner in the hallway and almost elbows him in the face when he wraps an arm over her shoulder.

"Oh, hi," she says, forcing a smile. His arm around her shoulder feels too heavy and she resists the urge to push it off.

"You look exhausted," Ben says.

Bella clears her throat. "I'm still having trouble sleeping." She bites her lip, debating whether or not to tell him about Edward's kiss. She doesn't have to think about it for more than a second before she decides that that would be a very bad idea.

Bella is unable to focus on anything Ben says. She smiles and nods when appropriate, trying not to let the overwhelming guilt show on her face.

She knows that, because it was out of her control, Edward's kiss isn't what's making her feel guilty.

No, the painful guilt weighs down on her because she liked it.

"So, can I come over after school?" Ben asks, brows raised hopefully as he leans one shoulder against the lockers. "I feel like we haven't hung out in forever."

"Sure," Bella says distractedly. She hopes that Ben's visit will be a good distraction from everything, including the guilt.

* * *

><p>The day passes by much quicker than Bella hoped, and biology class comes around with a new wave of anxiety.<p>

She swallows as she enters the classroom, her eyes immediately flying to the back of the room.

Edward sits slouched in his seat, absentmindedly running his finger along the edges of the book sitting in front of him. It's the first time she's found him without his nose buried in it before class.

Bella keeps her eyes on her colorful rain galoshes as she squeaks on over to her seat. Ever so slowly, she sits down next to Edward with her hands on her lap and her head lowered.

Neither of them speaks.

The energy between them is so palpable, Bella feels like she'd be able to touch it if she lifted her hand in the air. The silence is tense and uncomfortable, and she absolutely hates it. Nervous and on edge, she fidgets and can't keep her hands from touching this or that.

She's hyperaware of his presence and the silence gets heavier and heavier until it feels like it's suffocating her. Finally, she decides that she needs to break the ice.

Bella takes a deep breath, holding it there.

"I shouldn't have run," she says on the exhale. The guilt washes over her again and she feels her cheeks flush.

"Don't worry about it," Edward mumbles instantaneously. His voice is quiet, but his cheeks are flushed, too.

She half expects him to say, "I shouldn't have kissed you", but those words don't come. Instead, he sits quietly and continues to distractedly run his fingers over the paperback book.

Class starts a minute later, and the voice of the teacher dissipates the tension a little bit. Bella slowly begins to relax, deciding to focus on the lesson, difficult as it may be.

Her concentration is just beginning to slip away from Edward when he says six words that she will remember for a very, very long time:

"I wouldn't take it back, though."

Her heart jumps up into her mouth and she can't look at him. She also can't deny what those words make her feel, even if she is unable to give those feelings a name.

Class goes by in the same quiet manner, neither of them speaking. The bell rings and Edward is on his feet in a flash.

"I'm not going to be at lunch," Edward informs her, shoving his books into his backpack. He turns slightly toward her before reaching back to rub his neck, eyes on her shoulder instead of her face. "I promised Angela I'd help her with this essay, so…"

"Angela?" The name comes out as a squeak, and she can't explain the sudden feeling of sadness that twinges through her.

"Yes," Edward says. "Alice will be there, though."

Bella nods, feigning a neutral expression. "Okay. Cool."

Edward gives her a brief smile before throwing his backpack on and walking away.

* * *

><p>Bella wasn't expecting to skip lunch.<p>

While it's true that she really didn't want to go, it was also true that Alice had cornered her before she had even reached the cafeteria.

"Can you believe that fucker ditched us?" Alice asked, nudging her shoulder with Bella's. "I'm glad he's giving that poor girl a chance, though." Bella tries not to cringe. "What do you say we just go home?"

"Home?" Bella echoed. "I still have class later."

Alice had rolled her eyes. "Taking the rest of the day off isn't going to kill you, Miss Perfect."

It was the nickname that made Bella follow Alice out a back entrance of the school, and this is how she finds herself walking up Alice's porch half an hour later.

"I've never been to your house before," Bella says, stating the obvious as she nervously eyes the front door. She's glad that her mother's car isn't in the driveway.

"It's nothing special," Alice says, shrugging.

The inside of Alice's house is surprisingly clean. Knowing most of Alice's story, Bella half expected it to be a mess, the result of negligence. However, it's clear that Alice spends the days that she ditches school taking care of the sparsely furnished home.

The only thing unpleasant about it is the smell. The stench of cigarettes is so strong she can taste it, and it makes her nauseous.

"Come on up to my shitty room," Alice says, dropping her backpack on the floor. Bella begins to feel a little suspicion towards Alice's uncharacteristic hospitability.

Alice's room is also sparsely furnished, containing only a small bed, a dresser, and a desk. The floor is littered with clothes and other items, and it's a stark contrast to the clean living room.

"Ignore the trash," Alice says, kicking aside a textbook and crashing on the bed.

Bella tentatively takes her backpack off and places it on the floor by the bed before sitting next to Alice and curling one leg under her. "So… what's up?"

She feels so incredibly awkward and unsure of what to do. Alice, sensing this, attempts to clear the air.

"Okay," she says, sighing and getting up to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from her backpack. "I know you're probably like, 'what the fuck am I doing here?'"

Bella chuckles nervously, twirling the stud in her ear. "Well, kinda…"

Alice puts a cigarette in between her lips and reaches in her pocket for a lighter. She doesn't speak until she's taken two drags from her cigarette.

"Let me be frank," she says. "I feel like shit and I'm lonely as fuck."

Bella raises her brows at her blatancy. "I'm sorry about that."

Alice rolls her eyes. "Not your fault. I guess I just need to talk to another girl, you know? Never knew I needed that until now."

"I understand," Bella says, nodding. "I think I need that too from time to time."

"It's not like I wish my mother was around," Alice continues. "She can go to hell for all I care. It's just that, without Jasper around and with Edward not being how he used to be…." She trails off with a sigh, taking a long pull from her cigarette before exhaling the smoke. "Fuck, I can't wait to turn eighteen and get the hell out of this place."

"What do you mean Edward's not how he used to be?" Bella asks curiously.

Alice glances at her, eying her briefly before looking away again. "Just that people change, you know?"

Bella doesn't question her vagueness, already knowing that Alice isn't going to elaborate if she doesn't want to.

"I'm horny as hell, too," Alice points out casually. Bella's eyes widen as Alice leans over to put her cigarette out in an ashtray on her desk.

"What?" she laughs. "Like you've never been horny?"

Bella swallows, a little uncomfortable by the turn in the conversation. "I'm not even sure I'd know if I was."

Alice bites her lip, trying not to laugh. "Yeah right, Miss Priss."

"I am not prissy," Bella argues, mildly offended. First Miss Perfect, now Miss Priss?

"You so are," Alice says, reaching under her bed for a laptop. "I can prove it."

She gets on her knees and plops down directly next to Bella, the laptop on her lap.

Before she knows it, erotic images are flashing on the screen.

"Whoa!" Bella says, putting a hand on her mouth. "Alice!"

Alice laughs. "This isn't even hardcore porn! It's just, like… subtle, erotic shit."

Bella can't tear her eyes away.

She's seen a fair share of sex scenes in movies, but nothing of this nature.

Women with their hands in their panties…

A man with his face in a woman's privates, her legs wrapped around his muscular shoulders….

A woman on her knees, her face buried in a man's crotch, his hands wrapped in her hair…

Kissing, so much kissing…

Alice scrolls through the page and Bella is assaulted with image after image of sexual acts.

"This is pretty vanilla stuff," Alice explains. Bella shakes her head, speechless, her throat dry. She doesn't want to look, but it's like her brain is no longer wired to her eyes.

A masculine hand wrapped around a naked breast, the nipple hard.

Two masculine hands, squeezing a naked female behind…

A woman's mouth open in ecstasy as a man hovers over her, the muscles of his behind clenched tightly…

"Videos are better," Alice says, grinning and opening another window.

"Alice, no!" Bella finds her voice. "I can't…"

"Why not?" Alice challenges, raising a brow. "It's just porn. Or is it too much for your innocent mind?"

"It's wrong!"

"Says who? Your mother?"

Bella shakes her head, slightly distressed although she can't stop looking at the screen.

"Just relax and watch," Alice says gently. "I'm trying to loosen you up a bit."

The video that Alice shows her is one in which two, barely dressed young adults are making out on a beach chair by a pool. Their moans and pants are husky and loud, the sound of their lips wet as they smack against each other.

Bella licks her lips and watches, her heart beginning to pound. She watches the man's hands, his long fingers rubbing all over the female's body. He squeezes her breasts, runs his hands under her shirt, and squeezes her behind, all in less than ten seconds.

They soon begin to undress and Bella turns her head away, though her eyes stay where she doesn't want them to.

Bella's eyes widen as the man's penis springs free, long and hard. Everything in her screams to look away, but never has something felt so impossible.

She's grossed out and incredibly turned on at the same time.

Bella swallows, feeling flushed as she watches the man rub his thumb over the woman's clitoris. She moans and arches her back into his hand, and he inserts a finger inside of her.

The sounds and the visuals are all too much for Bella.

They make her feel warm and make her aware of body parts that she's always been good at ignoring.

Somehow, she finally gains the strength to push the laptop away.

"Had enough?" Alice asks, smirking.

Bella shakes her head. "I don't… I can't… Who does that?"

"Okay, okay," Alice shuts her laptop. "I made you uncomfortable and took advantage of your innocence. Sorry."

"I'm not that innocent," Bella says, defensively crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, really?" Alice asks, laughing. "What, is the Deacon's son a total freak in bed? What exactly have you done? "

Bella sniffs, sticking her nose in the air. "I've kissed."

Alice laughs harder. "You dirty whore."

Bella feels her cheeks warm. After Edward's kiss, she feels like a _cheating _whore.

"I bet Ben is dying to get in your pants," Alice continues, chuckling.

Bella frowns. "I don't think so."

"Please. He has a dick. Of course he is."

"Well, I'm not ready for that… _stuff_."

"I bet he was your first kiss, huh?"

"Yeah…" Bella hates the slightly condescending way Alice is looking at her. Without thinking, she adds, "But he's not the only one!'

Alice frowns dubiously. "Ben isn't the only guy you've swapped spit with?"

Bella bites her tongue, not knowing if she should disclose this information. Needing to vent, she decides to tell Alice everything.

"Edward kissed me Saturday night," Bella blurts.

An expression of complete disbelief crosses Alice's face. She stares at Bella as though she's just confessed to having slept with every man in Forks.

"Yeah fucking right," she says, eying Bella dubiously.

"He did!" Bella argues. "We went to the park and he showed me this hill and the stars and he just… did it. Out of nowhere."

Alice's mouth hangs agape as she continues to stare in quiet incredulity. There's a slight furrow to her brows, a devastated 'v' formation.

"I don't know what to do, Alice," Bella says softly, sinking into the desk chair. "I really, really like him, but as a friend, you know? Nothing is the same anymore and I feel guilty because of Ben, even though it wasn't my fault, and I'm just so confused…"

Alice is quiet, staring at the floor. Her face is completely blank, her eyes far off and distant.

"I can't believe he did that," Alice whispers to the carpet.

"I can't, either," Bella agrees softly.

She gets lost in her own thoughts, her mind flashing back to the night before.

She remembers the kiss, and what it felt like.

Warm and wet and soft…..

She remembers what he smelled like.

Like grass and rain and laundry detergent….

She remembers other details, like the taste of toothpaste and how he had a hand on her hip, a touch so light she wouldn't have felt it if every nerve in her body wasn't on high alert.

Suddenly, the images of Edward get mixed up with the memory of the images she's just seen on Alice's computer.

The newfound ache she feels in between her legs scares her.

* * *

><p>Bella shuts the front door behind her, mind in a daze. The things that she saw on Alice's computer flash through her mind, quick but vivid. Try as she might to push them out of her head, it seems impossible.<p>

Bella immediately heads upstairs to shower. Her clothes and hair smell like cigarette smoke and she's going to have to volunteer to do laundry this week.

Once she turns on the shower and waits for the cool water to get warmer, her nipples harden and goose bumps pop up all across her arms. Her awareness of the throbbing point in between her legs is suddenly heightened, a little more difficult to ignore.

Bella stares down at her nude form, her eyes landing on the light smattering of hair below her belly button. Without even really thinking about it, she runs her hand through it.

Her lips part at the sensitivity of that area, and the throbbing lower down gets worse. Before she can feel any dirtier for her thought process, the water gets hot enough to sear her skin and make her forget.

Unfortunately for Bella, the shower doesn't wash away her thoughts or take away the pulsing at her center. As she wraps a towel around her and walks back to the bedroom, the silence of the house assaults her.

Shutting her bedroom door, Bella clutches her towel closer to her body. She walks over to the dresser with an annoyed huff, irritated at the incessant throb that won't leave her alone. She rubs her thighs together, but that only makes it worse.

She suddenly remembers one of the images she saw on Alice's computer- the one with the girl lying on the bed, her hand down her panties.

As soon as the thought crosses Bella's mind, a twinge of shame passes through her.

It's not that she hasn't curiously played with herself before; that ship sailed when she was much younger. However, touching herself to the point of orgasm has never happened.

Until now, she never had the need.

Biting her lip and glancing at the closed curtains on her window, Bella sinks down on her bed and lies flat on her back.

Closing her eyes, she conjures up the memories of what she saw on Alice's computer. They flash through her mind, almost blurring together.

There are a few that stand out, the ones where you can't see the faces of the participants. It allows her to imagine herself in the pictures, giving her own identity to the faceless women.

The images are as clear in her mind as they were on the screen in front of her.

The shot of long, lithe fingers squeezing a woman's breast as her head is thrown back, mouth open in pleasure.

The woman straddling the equally nude man in only her lacy panties, her back arched and her breasts thrust in the air while her fingernails dig into his shoulders.

The close up of two pairs of full lips, the manly pair roughly biting down and pulling on the female one…

The image of a man pushed up against the wall, clutching a brunette to him with a hand squeezing her naked ass while his other is fisted in her hair. She has one knee up against the wall, making it very clear that the two are joined together in other ways…

But the one image that she keeps at the forefront of her mind is the one of the young teenage couple, the one kissing on the bed with the girl on her back. They're only in their underwear and the boy has a messy head of brown hair that successfully covers his face and the girl's- all except their mouths, captured in a moment of intense passion.

The most arousing part of the entire picture is how the boy has his hand down the girl's simple cotton panties, his wrist against the exposed part of her flesh, making it clear that he's pushed his fingers deep. The girl's hands are fisting both the boy's hair and the sheets underneath them, indicating her pleasure.

Bella slowly slides her hands under her towel, letting it fall open around her. She's left naked on the bed, her nipples hardening even further against the air. This simple act of lying nude in an empty house has made her feel brazen.

Clenching her eyes shut, she hesitantly slides her fingers up and down her soft stomach. She feels stupid, like she doesn't know what she's doing. Nevertheless, the motions soothe her and relax her into the mattress.

Her heart beats in tandem with the throbbing at her clitoris, and she lowers her fingers to rest at her center.

Bella gasps at the warmth and slight dampness, the throbbing increasing infinitesimally. She pokes and prods herself, biting her lip at the sharp surges of pleasure.

Going with her baser instincts, she starts rubbing, slowly. Her breath hitches as the pleasure increases, and she momentarily forgets the images in her head as she explores this part of her body.

After stroking and rubbing herself to the point of insanity, she's dripping with need. Her wrist aches, but stopping only leaves her wanting and she doesn't want to quit until she gets the release she needs.

Realizing that it's best if she continues without stopping, Bella conjures up the images again and restarts her ministrations. Small fingers firmly rub against her swollen, slippery clit as she recalls the image of the man grabbing the woman's breast.

Her other hand reaches up to play around with her nipple, and she gives it a little pinch, gasping at the sensation.

She bends her knees and rests her feet flat on the bed as her fingers work faster, harder. Soft whimpers and moans escape her and her mouth goes slack as the pleasure at her center intensifies.

It feels so good she doesn't want to stop.

Bella recalls the image of the teenage couple, visualizing that she's the girl that the boy is touching so intimately.

Her fingers become his, and now he's the one giving her pleasure. He tugs and pinches at her breasts as he rubs furiously at her throbbing sex. Bella's teeth clamp down on her lower lip and her back begins to arch as she gets closer to her release.

Her wrist is aching, but she can't stop. The pleasure has overpowered her mind, and soon the strangers in her mind have faces.

In her mind's eye, soft, warm lips press against hers. She's familiar with the way they pull at her skin, familiar with the scent of orchard leaves that washes over her. The fingers that tug at her nipples are long and lithe, while the ones that push against her sensitive spot are strong and supple.

The building in her stomach grows faster as her moans grow louder. She becomes rougher with herself, letting her mind and hands push her to the precipice of her newfound desires.

Bella's breaths become shallow as the coiling in her stomach gets tighter, and tighter, and tighter…

She sees the face of her best friend hovering above her, lips swollen, green eyes blazing, and she falls apart.

"_Edward_," she moans, her backside arching off the bed as her fingers become even wetter. Her orgasm rushes through her in small waves, and her body falls limp, her nub tingling with sensitivity.

Panting, she's still too under a post-orgasm haze to realize what she's just done or said.

The squeaking of her door being pushed open abruptly pulls her out of her haze.

Her heart skips a beat and she bolts upright, snatching at the towel under her and trying to cover herself up as best as she possibly can.

Ben stands in her doorway with his mouth agape, his hand poised above the doorknob. Stunned, blue eyes appraise the creamy white skin of Bella's legs and the flushed face. The bulge at the front of his jeans makes it clear that he heard most of what she was up to.

"Ben," Bella gasps, humiliation burning through her. "What- What…." She can't even finish her sentence, her voice too low over the pounding of her heart.

Ben's eyes finally land on her face, his shocked expression morphing into one of disgust.

"_Edward_?" he whispers in repulsion.

It only hits her then, that the name she's spoken has revealed something about her that she's long since been ignoring.

Ben takes a step back, shaking his head, and in a flash he's disappeared.

Stunned and ashamed, Bella shakily gets to her feet and wraps the towel around her delicate form, tears of mortification stinging her eyes.

All over again, she feels like trash. Dirty and slutty and disgusting. Sinful. She's humiliated, appalled, horrified at herself and at the situation…

With shaking hands, she finds clothes to put on, her mind running a mile a minute.

Near tears, Bella sits on her bed and gazes at the scene of the crime. She has the sudden urge to change the sheets and even the pillows.

Most of all, she wishes she could take back the name that has unraveled her armor of denial and shoved the truth right in her face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Oh my. What a way to come to your sense, huh?

_Guilty Pleasures_ is a gorgeous bubblegum pink by Essie.

See you soon!


	11. Naked Truth

**Chapter 11: Naked Truth**

Edward's never felt so sad.

He can only blame himself, really. For most of his life, his perception of everything around him had managed to remain realistic, grounded, and logical. He's doesn't have dreams; he has goals. He doesn't have faith; he has skepticism. He questions everything and, when in doubt, searches for the truth any way he can.

He doesn't aim to be someone else or even _like_ someone else. He is who he is and, for a teenage boy, he's content.

Well, he _was_ content.

He was content until Bella Swan moved to town and gave him reason to start dreaming, even just a little bit.

With Bella Swan came the slow and steady rising of Edward's inner daydreamer, warping his perception of what is possible and impossible, what is reasonable and what is unreasonable, what is risky and what is not.

Kissing Bella had been very risky. The logical voice in the back of his head told him as such, screamed it at him even, but he chose to shut it out and go with his instincts.

He won't be forgetting the taste of her breath, just a little minty from having brushed her teeth, and the way her soft, pliable lips were stiff before they relaxed into his own. He won't forget how her fingers had clutched at his jacket for the briefest of seconds before she let go.

He can't forget her scent- pomegranates and grass and girl.

What he remembers most of all is the look on her face after he pulled away. The shocked, dazed, disbelieving expression. Her eyes had been glinting in the dim light, her guard down. She was open, unable to hide her emotions, and so he noticed exactly when her shocked expression softened into one of complete vulnerability.

Then, she was sitting up and he couldn't see her face anymore.

He hadn't expected her to run away from him. So when she began stumbling down the hill, he was frozen in surprise and couldn't move until she was out of sight.

Yet, despite his most melancholy of emotions, he can't regret kissing her. The only thing he regrets is not running after her. Perhaps that would have staved off the constant awkwardness that now hovers around them.

It's Tuesday when Edward is shuffling down the crowded hallways of Forks High, hands in his pockets and the daydreamer locked back behind that concrete wall, built stronger than ever.

He tactfully weaves his way through the other students, a skill that took years of practice before reaching perfection.

Once he reaches his locker, he succumbs to the habit of glancing up towards Bella's, right across the hall.

She has her head down as she pushes books into her backpack, her hair forming a curtain around her face.

They had barely spoken the day before, when he told her he hadn't regretted kissing her and then left to help Angela with a paper.

When Bella glances up towards him, their eyes lock for no more than five seconds.

In that five seconds, Bella blushes the darkest shade of pink Edward's ever seen. He watches curiously as she hastily looks away and slams her locker shut, whirling on her heel to walk in the opposite direction.

Edward stares at her, puzzled, knowing that her class is the other way. Her expression at the sight of him, embarrassed and miserable, is what stops him from going after her.

Even if he did go after her, he wouldn't know what to say.

Just like he doesn't know what to say when Alice reaches out and pulls him into a corner away from the hustle and bustle.

"You kissed her?" Alice hisses, staring up at Edward. Her small fingers are clutching the fabric of his sleeve, her nails digging into the skin of his elbow. It's an awful contrast to how Bella's hands had felt holding onto him.

As gently as he can, he pries her fingers off of him, his mouth open and closing in speechlessness.

"Well? Did you?" Alice asks. He doesn't understand the slightly devastated look on her face.

Edward takes a deep breath, rubbing his eyes from under his glasses.

"Yes," he sighs. "How did you find out?"

"Bella told me." Alice's voice is quieter in pitch, another reaction that Edward fails to understand.

He stares down at his feet and momentarily listens to the hum of the student body quiet down to a distant buzz as everyone heads to class. Being late is, for the first time in a while, only a small thought at the back of his head.

"Yeah, it happened," Edward mutters. He tries to hide the anxiety he feels at talking about it by shrugging. "The feelings aren't mutual."

Alice snorts, shaking her head. "And what have I been telling you this entire time? I told you not to do anything stupid. Obviously she doesn't like you back, so why the hell-"

"Stop, Alice," Edward snaps, and he feels the careful calm he's so used to maintaining begin to crumble. "I don't need to hear it. I realize it was impulsive of me, therefore bordering on idiotic, but it's done and over with and I wouldn't take it back. Telling me that what I did was stupid will neither change what happened, nor make me regret it."

Alice stares up at him like she doesn't know who he is anymore.

"You're in way over your head, aren't you?" she whispers, shaking her head again. It's pity this time.

"I may be." It's all he can manage to say. "Are you done berating me now? I'm late."

"What's happening to you, Edward?" Alice asks quietly. "You were never like this before; you never gave a shit about things like this, you…"

"_You_ never gave a shit, either," Edward retorts before he can stop himself. "You never concerned yourself with what I did. Why do you now?"

It's a question that's been nagging him for longer than he'd care to admit. He's just never had the courage to ask it before.

He valued his friendship with Alice far too much.

Alice is immediately on the defensive. "What do you mean why do I care now? I'm your best friend, asshole!"

"You haven't exactly been acting like it," Edward states. "I don't need you dictating what I do and don't do."

He might as well have slapped her in the face.

"Oh, is that how you feel?"

"Yes. No." Edward growls, frustrated. "Look, just-"

"There's no loitering in the halls!" The sharp voice of a teacher echoes towards them, shaking them out of their tense bubble. "Shouldn't you two be in class?"

Edward takes a deep breath, stepping away from Alice. "Yes, we should." He stares at Alice for a moment, waiting for her to say something else.

When she remains silent, her yes cold and distant, he walks away.

* * *

><p>The day only goes downhill from there for Edward. When Bella doesn't show up to Biology, he stays distracted for the rest of class. He debates sending her a text message, but he's still unsure about where they stand.<p>

Surely they're still friends, but the very fact that he even doubts that bothers him greatly. He can't help but wonder if she's intentionally avoiding him, though he can't figure out what happened in between the last class and now that would cause her to want to stay away from him.

When he enters the cafeteria and doesn't see Bella or Alice, he turns on his heel and nearly crashes into Ben Cheney.

"Watch it," Ben murmurs, halting his steps and adjusting the strap on his shoulder.

"Have you seen Bella?" Edward blurts. The sight of Ben immediately creates the association of Bella in his mind, the question falling from his lips before he can control it.

Ben appraises Edward through narrowed eyes. "Yeah, I've _seen_ her. Seen her real good, actually…"

The vague answer confuses Edward, and his tone comes out more confrontational than he intends, "What does that mean?"

Ben chuckles bitterly. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Frustrated and giving up, Edward moves past him and walks away. He has no destination in mind, wanting to get away from Ben and closer to Bella.

Somehow, he finds himself leaving the building and ending up behind the gym, a wet, muddy area behind a brick wall.

He doesn't expect to find Bella sitting there.

She's sitting on her backpack, a barrier from the wet grass, with her knees drawn up and her chin on top of them. She looks so small with her arms wrapped around her legs, her gaze on the ground.

Recovering from the surprise of seeing her here, Edward shoves his hands in his pockets and walks over to her, making sure to stomp a little to get her attention.

Hearing his sneakers squish against the ground, Bella glances up in surprise. Spotting Edward, her cheeks become tinged with pink once again before her gaze moves away.

"I didn't think I'd find you out here," Edward says, attempting to ignore her odd new reaction to him.

Bella fidgets uncomfortably. "It's quiet."

"Aren't you usually famished by now?"

"Not today."

Edward pauses, wondering if he should leave her alone. Instead, he goes against his better judgment to find out what's vexing her.

"Are you all right?" His voice cracks a little, a sign of his uncertainty.

Bella merely nods, avoiding his gaze the entire time. It's clear that he's not wanted at the moment.

Shoulders slumping in defeat, he turns to walk away.

Edward pauses when he hears Bella sniffle.

He turns around in time to catch her wipe a tear away before turning her head, effectively hiding her face from him as her cheek rests against her knee.

Physically incapable of walking away from her as she cries, Edward slowly trudges over and seats himself down next to her.

He gets a sense of déjà vu, and his mind flashes back to the night of the Fall Dance. A crying Bella had been sitting in a dark hallway and Edward had been there to comfort her.

Just like now.

Edward wants so badly to soothe her with his touch, so he gives in to the impulse and gently places his hand on her shoulder. When Bella stiffens, he lets his hand drop.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly. _Please, please, please tell me before I go insane. _

Bella doesn't turn to look at him, merely shaking her head.

_It has to be Ben_, Edward thinks. _That would explain his odd behavior and Bella's evident distress. Maybe they're having problems…_

Edward can't quite ignore the wave of glee that passes through him at the prospect of problems between Bella and Ben. Of course, he never wants to see Bella heartbroken, but seeing her with someone that doesn't care about her like he should bothers him almost as much.

"Is it Ben?" he asks.

Bella sits absolutely still, not moving a muscle, and Edward begins to think that she's either ignoring him or lost in her thoughts.

When she finally turns to look at him, she has the pink indent of her knee on her cheek. Her eyes are a little puffy and the tip of her nose is turning red.

"I hate seeing you like this," Edward mutters. "Did he hurt you?"

Bella shakes her head vehemently. "No. Ben wouldn't hurt me."

"Then what is it?"

She still can't look him in the eye and Edward is highly frustrated by this. When he can't read her eyes, it's like her entire being is blocked away from him.

Except now he feels like she's blocking him out on purpose.

"I can't talk about it," Bella says, voice cracking. Her flushed cheeks never pale.

"You can with me," Edward replies. "You know that."

She shakes her head. "I can't."

Edward doesn't let her see the hurt that flashes across his face.

"Did you break up?" He has to whisper the question, so unsure of how she'll react.

Bella doesn't respond for the longest time. She sniffs and stares into the distance.

Finally, she nods.

The action is so quick that he would have missed if it he hadn't been watching her so intensely, his eyes never leaving her tearstained cheek.

Edward would have whooped and hollered in joy if she didn't look like such a mess.

Bella wraps her arms around her knees again, tighter this time, and scrunches her face as though trying to ward off tears.

Edward tugs on her sleeve. "C'mere."

She shakes her head.

"Come on."

The more he urges her, the more she cries, and he _doesn't understand._

Why isn't she falling into his arms this time?

"I guess I'll leave you alone," he says quietly. The disappointment is unintentionally clear in his voice.

"Wait." The desperation in Bella's tone stops him, freezing him in a crouched position.

"Stay," she adds in a small voice. "Please."

He can't deny her, not when she asks like that. Not when she's got that tearstained face and that pink nose and those eyes that show so, so much more than she's letting on.

Edward falls back onto the soggy ground just in time for Bella to break into a fresh wave of tears.

This time, she doesn't try to fight him off when he pulls her against him.

"I'm just so embarrassed," she sobs into his shoulder. "I did something bad," she cries. "Something disgusting and he saw me."

Edward's completely flabbergasted, and unable to think of anything Bella could have done to be disgusting.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," he tries to be reassuring, even without knowing what she's talking about.

"You weren't there," Bella argues tearfully. "God, it was awful. And now he probably thinks I'm like, the biggest slut and now the whole school probably knows about it."

Edward shakes his head, frustrated with confusion. "What were you doing? What exactly was it that was so wrong that he broke up with you?"

Bella pulls away from Edward's shoulder to look at him, her face flushed with more than just the crying. The embarrassment that shows all over her face, although intriguing him in the extreme, is almost devastating.

"You promise you won't tell anyone?" she whispers, voice cracking.

Edward hopes that his eyes convey how much she can trust him. She could trust him with her deepest, darkest secret and he'd take it to his grave. Anything for her.

"You can trust me," he says, looking her dead in the eyes. "Whatever it is, I won't tell a soul."

Bella bites her lip, drawing his eyes, before she speaks: "I touched myself."

Edward feels his throat constrict, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

That was certainly not what he was expecting.

His mouth goes dry and he instinctively swallows, images of Bella masturbating flashing through his mind and infiltrating every coherent thought.

The twitch in his pants isn't completely unfamiliar to him, though this would be the worst time to experience that.

"Um…"

Bella pulls completely away from him, once again curling her arms around her knees.

"I'm a slut," she whimpers.

Edward surprises them both by laughing. It's a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh, but it's a laugh nonetheless.

"Masturbation relieves a stuffy nose," he says, only a little distractedly. He can't sit still.

"What, should I do it right now?" Bella asks with biting sarcasm. Her cheeks are still flaming red.

"No." Edward's voice cracks. "Well, I…" He chuckles nervously, and it comes out as an odd choking sound. "Well, I won't stop you if you want to…"

Bella giggles but then coughs uncomfortable.

"It's okay," Edward says, adopting a more serious tone. "That doesn't make you a slut. Everyone does it."

Bella snorts. "Yeah, right."

"Really," he insists. "I know how you feel, though… Although, for me it was worse because it was my father that caught me at it."

Bella cringes. "Ouch."

"Yeah. But you know what he told me? He said that everyone masturbates, and if they say they don't then they're either lying or they don't have hands."

Bella chuckles reluctantly, but doesn't respond as she wipes her tears.

Edward nudges his shoulder into hers. "I must say, that was quite an idiotic reason for Ben to break up with you. If I had seen that, I'd have wanted to keep you… or give you a hand."

Bella blushes again, smiling a little. "That's not helping me be any less embarrassed."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed. I'm well aware that you feel ashamed because of what you've been raised to believe, but you know what? Your mother probably did it at some point, too."

"Oh, god!" Bella covers her face. "That's a visual I don't need!"

"I am only stating the facts," Edward says, though he's glad to see her mood improve. "But really, Bella, it's nothing to be ashamed of. At the risk of sounding like my father, I have to say that it's perfectly normal." He rubs the back of his neck a little shyly. "I do it, too."

Bella peeks at him from the corner of her eye. "Really?"

Edward coughs and looks away, his ears turning pink. "Sure."

Bella watches him pensively, biting her lip. After a moment, she sits up a little straighter.

"Wanna know something else?" she asks quietly, tiling her head.

"Anything."

Bella glances at him, smiling shyly. "I really liked it."

And just like that, Bella Swan goes from being sweet and innocent to unbelievably sexy.

* * *

><p>Bella's mood is lifted considerably after her chat with Edward. Instead of going to class, like she should, she wanders off to the school library to find something new to read.<p>

Browsing the young adult section, she hums as she looks out for a title that catches her eye.

Pulling out a thick book with a bright green book sleeve, she flips it over to read the summary on the back.

So lost is she in the words that she doesn't notice the dark shadow that hovers behind her.

Sucking her teeth in disappointment at the less than interesting summary, Bella places the book back on the shelf before turning to look at the others.

Instead, she finds a scream getting caught in her throat.

"Whoops," Alice says, her voice as dead as her eyes. "Didn't mean to freak you out."

Freaking Bella out is quite the understatement. Alice is the image of menace as she leans against the bookshelf across from Bella, arms folded in front of her chest. Her expression is cold, mouth set in a grim line, eyes flashing.

"Hi," Bella says, voice cracking. The glare that Alice is giving her is putting her on edge and making her anxious.

"You need to quit hurting him."

Alice's statement is so seemingly random that Bella finds herself staring at her in confusion for a good thirty seconds.

"Who?" she finally asks, though she has a sneaking suspicion as to who Alice is talking about.

"Edward." Alice says the name sharply, cutting through any remaining confusion Bella may have had.

Although Bella has no idea where Alice is going with this, the dread that begins to spread at the pit of her stomach is foretelling.

"How am I hurting him?" Bella asks, stomach twisting. She knows the answer, deep down, but denial won't let it rise to the surface. Instead, she lets Alice's claw it out from inside of her.

"You know he likes you," Alice says, looking Bella dead in the eyes. "He told you, didn't he? On Valentine's Day? Right before you told him you didn't like him like that? And then he kissed you?"

"Yes," Bella says slowly. "But what does that have to do with me hurting him?"

The laugh that Alice barks out is thick with bitterness. "Ha! Are you really that blind? Or are you just dumb and oblivious?"

"I am not dumb or oblivious," Bella says, offended.

"You're blind, then?"

"Alice-"

"Quit fucking stringing him along, Bella!" Alice cuts to the chase, her statement as sharp as her tone. "Don't you see how fucking difficult it is for him to be around you, knowing that you don't feel the same way he does?"

"I don't…" Bella's at a loss for words, her heart sinking at Alice's words.

"Yeah, you _don't _know what you're doing," Alice says. "That's why I'm here to give you some advice. Back off."

"Alice, where is this coming from?" Bella asks in exasperation.

"It doesn't matter where the fuck it's coming from," Alice retorts. "The point is that you know he likes you and you keep leading him on."

"I am not leading him on," Bella argues. "He knows I don't like him back."

"But you run to him every time something goes wrong. Every time you start throwing a hissy fit over something or every time you wanna cry, you run to Edward. Like an hour ago." When Bella stares at her, she nods. "Yeah, I saw you behind the gym, blubbering your eyes out."

"He came to _me_ today."

"And you let him stay. You're making him think that you need him."

"I do," Bella says quietly. "He's my best friend."

"And that's not fair to him."

"I don't agree with you."

"You don't have to," Alice states. "All you need to do is keep in mind that you're torturing him by being his friend."

"I don't mean to torture him," Bella states emphatically.

Alice's expression softens slightly, but not by much. The coldness in her sharp features is still dominant.

"Well, now you know better," she says condescendingly.

"I'm not going to just stop being his friend." Bella hates how timid her voice sounds.

"Because you're selfish."

The verbal slap renders Bella speechless. Alice knows that she's finally got Bella where she want her- right in the palm of her hand, ready to be crushed to pieces.

"It's for the best," Alice half-whispers with something smug in her expression. "You really are hurting him. Let him go."

Bella shakes her head in disbelief, not wanting to acknowledge Alice's words and the fact that she may just be right. Maybe she _is _hurting Edward by continuing to be his friend. Maybe it is better if she just lets him go.

"Don't cry," Alice says in mock concern, putting a hand on Bella's shoulder. Bella didn't even know she was tearing up. "He'll be a lot happier in the end, trust me."

_But what about me?_ Bella thinks.

_Selfish,_ another voice reminds her.

"I've known him a lot longer than you, anyway," Alice adds in an oddly cheerful tone. Bella is crumbling in front of her eyes, and she's reveling in every second. "It's for the best."

That's the last thing she says before giving Bella a plastic smile and a squeeze on the shoulder that feels like a warning.

Alice's words echo in Bella's head long after she's gone.

They echo as she leaves the library, empty handed.

They echo as she zombie-walks down the hallway, nearly crashing into other students but not caring.

They echo especially loud when she sees Edward waiting for her like he said he would. When he gives her that small smile and pushes himself off the wall before shoving his hands in his pockets and standing in that palm-tree way she loves so much.

The words scream at her as she ignores him and walks the opposite way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>I promise I'm going somewhere with this! Hang tight.

_Naked Truth_ is a soft, fluffy, off-white-almost-pink from Essie.

Finals week is coming up, so the next update will probably be some day after the 25th. :( It could still be a little bit earlier than that, but it depends on if I'm able to do any writing in between studying and other busy crap that always ends up happening in May.

Happy Mother's Day weekend, y'all. See you soon!

:)


	12. Fowl Play

**A/N:** You guys are awesomely awesome for being so patient. I'm officially free for the summer, which means that (since I don't have much of a life) I can write all the time, woo!

All my love and sincerest gropes for **Pinkaquaclouds** and** lyleslove.** Their feedback prevents this story from going to shit.

Let us proceed...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Fowl Play<strong>

Everyone has a limit, and Edward is beginning to believe that his is nearing.

He likes Bella, he really does, but the way that she goes from spilling her heart out one second and then avoiding him the next is starting to drive him a bit insane.

There is also something particularly odd about Alice's abnormally cheerful mood. It's as though their recent argument about whether or not kissing Bella was a good idea never happened. She smiles at least once every five minutes, even if it's for no reason, and it feels _wrong_.

Edward and Alice are sitting on her porch, Alice with a cigarette in between her fingers. Alice chuckles, a sound that has started to annoy Edward to an irrational level.

"I'm waiting for the moment Mrs. Lincoln pops a muscle," Alice says, eyes on an extremely muscular woman that jogs past them. "Really, what is she trying to achieve? She could probably lift my house."

Alice glances at Edward when he doesn't respond, undoubtedly expecting some retort about muscle strength or a statistic about female body builders. She's greeted by a brooding pout, hunched shoulders, and distant eyes.

"Why the long face, Cyclo?" Alice asks casually.

"Why the unusual level of exuberance, Alice?" Edward responds with just a hint of bitterness.

It's Alice's turn to stay quiet, but Edward looks at her with a raised brow.

She shrugs. "Seeing things in a different light, I guess."

Edward gives her a dubious look. "Yeah? And where exactly did this enlightenment come from?"

Alice rolls her eyes. "Does it matter? You're not helping with my decision to not be so fucking cynical all the time."

Edward shakes his head. "I'm sorry. It's just…" He trails off and runs both hands through his hair, elbows on his knees. "Bella's acting weird again."

Alice glances away, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Why's that?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be this irritated," Edward says with a huff. "She's fine one minute, and then she begins avoiding me again. All this back and forth is maddening. I'd appreciate it if she'd actually talk to me about it instead of constantly running away."

Alice stays silent, staring into the distance. Finally, she puts on the cheerful tone again. "It's probably nothing. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Maybe it's better this way."

Edward watches her put out her cigarette, his expression one of complete confusion. Both Alice's and Bella's behaviors have been far from normal, and he can't help but begin to wonder if there's a correlation between the two.

He stares and stares at Alice, how her movements are lighter, her expression calmer. The blank, indifferent expression she usually wears has been gone for a few days now, and while he was pleased at first, it no longer makes sense.

In fact, Alice looks just the slightest bit… _smug._

It hits him them, a horrible possibility that he can't help but consider.

"What did you say to her?" Edward asks, and the false curiosity he aimed for is overridden by accusation.

"Excuse me?" Alice scoffs. "What makes you think I said anything?"

She won't make eye contact and busies herself with lighting another cigarette, a disgusted look on her face.

"It adds up," Edward says, pushing his glasses up and glaring at her. "You were pissed off that day, pissed off that I kissed her and didn't regret it. Did you _tell_ her to avoid me?"

"No!" Alice almost shouts the word. "I didn't say shit to her, Edward. If she's acting weird, it's her own goddamn problem. Don't make it mine."

Edward watches her face, every trace of happiness gone. She looks oddly distressed, her cheeks flushed pink as if in embarrassment. He watches her until she finally meets his gaze, and the slightest hint of guilt he sees in her eyes is enough.

"I don't believe you," he says, standing up. Alice looks up at him from her spot, eyes wide with childlike innocence. "You won't stop at anything, will you?" His voice is quiet, though tight with anger.

"She is going to _hurt_ you," Alice hisses, and he can't explain the tears in her eyes. "I was trying to help."

Edward merely shakes his head and walks away, knowing that the doors on his friendship with Alice have closed for the last time.

* * *

><p>He needs to talk to her.<p>

That's all Edward is thinking the Monday after he realized what Alice had done.

His eyes scan the halls for a sign of the brown hair he's so familiar with, his fingers anxiously tapping against his thigh as he leans against his locker.

When he finally spots Bella weaving through the crowd, he pushes forward and hurries over to her.

"Bella," he says urgently, and the tone of his voice startles her.

Bella's wide eyes glance around them, and he hates that he has to corner her like this. However, the sooner he tells her to forget what Alice said, the better.

"Listen, about Alice-" he begins speaking, but she cuts him off.

"I'm in a hurry," she says, grabbing books from her locker. "Can we do this later?"

"No."

The force in his voice surprises the both of them, and Bella looks at him warily.

Edward clears his throat, pushing back the frustration and anger that's been bubbling in him for so long.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just can't have you avoiding me anymore. I'm going insane. Can you just listen, please?"

Bella frowns sadly and shuts her locker with a nod. "Okay."

Edward lets out a breath of relief, unaware that he was anticipating her saying no.

"I know what Alice said to you," he explains. "Well, not _exactly_ what she said, but I know she said something that may have frightened you and caused you to avoid me. Whatever it was, it's not true okay?"

"How did you know?" Bella asks quietly.

"She was unusually perky, clearly at our expense." The word 'our' sends an odd, unnecessary thrill through him.

"I didn't realize," Bella murmurs, her quiet voice drowned out by the ringing of the bell. It goes ignored.

"What exactly did she say to you?" Edward asks, stepping closer. He wants to soften her features, to gently comfort away the distress on her face. He keeps his hands to himself, though.

Bella casts a paranoid glance around the hallway, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"I don't know…" She bites her lip nervously, clutching her books to her chest like a shield. The fear and anxiety in her eyes makes him very angry with Alice.

"Alice can't hurt you," he assures her. "You don't have to be afraid of her."

"I'm not," Bella says defensively.

"Then tell me."

The hallway is emptying out as teenagers reluctantly shuffle to their classes, taking their buzzing voices with them. The quieter the area gets, the louder Bella's silence seems.

Finally, she sighs. "Look, I'm really sorry if I've been hurting you, okay? I didn't mean any of it." The sadness in her features takes Edward by surprise.

"Hurting me?"

"That's what Alice said," Bella says, reaching up to twirl the stud in her ear. Edward notices that she's wearing the friendship bracelet he gave her on Valentine's Day.

"Did she elaborate?" he asks.

"Not really," Bella says, shaking her head. "But she just said that I should stay away from you because me being around you hurts you. That I'm leading you on and it's not fair to you if I stay your friend."

Edward is shaking his head before she's even done. He rubs his eyes from under his glasses and sighs heavily.

"Damn it, Alice," he mutters. "I really do not understand why she finds the need to speak for me as though she knows me so well."

"Was she wrong?" Bella asks quietly.

Edward drops his hands from his eyes and stares down at Bella, his forehead crinkling. His hesitation is long enough to cause a look of distress to cross Bella's face.

"Yes."

He says the word quietly, listening for the truth himself. Does it hurt for him to be around Bella? No, not exactly. Seeing her with Ben? Yes. Seeing her crying because of Ben? Yes. Seeing her fail to realize that he's the one that actually cares about her? Absolutely.

But what he feels when he's with her is the furthest thing from hurt.

"What you have to understand about Alice is that she's not used to sharing anyone," Edward explains. "I've been her friend for a very, very long time and she's protective of me, just like I am of her. She meant well, but I do think she went too far."

Bella nods. "I guess I understand. I was just worried that maybe she was right. That maybe I was being selfish by wanting to stay your friend."

Edward lets out a laugh of disbelief. "Selfish? You? That's like calling a kitten evil for chasing a ball of yarn."

"Do you wanna do something?" Bella suddenly asks, voice going up an octave. She fidgets with the edge of her notebook, bending the corners. "Like… bowling, or something? You know that place by the pizzeria? I think there's like a discount for students this weekend…"

For the first time in a while, Edward doesn't know what's going on. All of a sudden, the words coming out of Bella's mouth seem so out of touch with reality that he questions whether or not he's hearing things.

_This cannot be happening,_ he thinks. _She's asking me out? Am I hallucinating? _

"You're asking me out?" His voice cracks, and his disbelief is palpable.

So is his hope.

Bella smiles a little. "Kinda-sorta-maybe? I just figured that we haven't really done anything fun together, you know? Just you and me…"

Edward laughs, a liberating, carefree sound of relief. "Yes. Absolutely. How could I say no to that?"

Bella laughs along with him. "It's this Saturday night. Is that okay with you?"

"Perfect," Edward says, nodding eagerly. _Get a grip,_ he reminds himself. _It's not officially a date. _

He shoves his hands in his pockets to keep himself from jumping up and down and clapping like an excited little girl.

"Awesome," Bella says, grinning.

Edward is on top of the world.

* * *

><p>The sun has never seemed to shine as bright as it shines on that Saturday morning. At least, Edward thinks so.<p>

He wakes up in a good mood and, as a result, certain things don't irk him as much as they usually do. Maggie doesn't seem quite as annoying and her early-morning energy doesn't give him a migraine. He doesn't brush away his mother's affectionate gestures, not cringing away when she attempts to tame his hair with her hand or pat him on the cheek.

He even manages to have a non-awkward conversation with his father.

If anyone notices his unusual demeanor, they don't acknowledge it with anything more than a pleasantly surprised smile.

When the time to meet Bella at the bowling alley begins to near, Edward grows increasingly nervous. Although the excitement overpowers the anxiety, he can't help but feel like he'll mess this up somehow.

He makes sure to actually put some effort into dressing himself, avoiding the baggy sweatshirts and settling on a knit shirt his mother must have gotten for him at some point. Quickly grabbing a pair of jeans that aren't worn out from being used so often, he makes a half-hearted attempt at taming his hair before running down the stairs.

"Have fun, honey!" Esme calls from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" Edward calls, practically slamming the front door shut behind him.

Twirling the keys of his mother's Volvo around one finger, he glances at Bella's house. The empty driveway indicates that her father must already be on his way to drop her off at the bowling alley.

By the time Edward has parked in the parking lot of Forks' only bowling alley, his palms are sweaty. He climbs out of the car and takes a deep breath, letting the cool air wash away his anxiety.

One deep breath later, he's walking towards the doors with a determined gait and an attitude that he doesn't believe anything can hinder.

* * *

><p>Edward spots Bella inside, sitting in a booth and trying not to look awkward. She twirls a stud in her ear and sits in a slouch, almost like she's trying very hard not to be noticed.<p>

The second she sees Edward, she's springing out of her seat and throwing her arms around his neck.

Immediately, he's assaulted by the familiar scent of pomegranates, though there's a hint of vanilla this time. Automatically, his arms come up to wrap around her waist, her long hair soft and smooth against his hand.

"I'm so glad you're here," Bella sighs in relief, and Edward doesn't want to let go.

"Me too," he says quietly. He tries not to look disappointed when she pulls away. "Am I late?"

"No," she reassures him, her eyes flitting around the room. "I can just feel really awkward and miserable sitting by myself."

Edward nods towards the counter at the far end of room. "Can I compensate for the awkwardness by purchasing our shoes and lane?"

Bella nods in agreement, an oddly anxious expression on her face. "Sure. Of course."

Once Edward rents their shoes and their lane, they settle onto a nearby bench to change their shoes.

"Did you know that those little plastic things at the end of your shoelaces are called aglets?" Edward asks. He's watching Bella's delicate fingers fumble with the laces of her bowling shoes.

"Hmm?" Bella looks up, distractedly blinking at him.

"Aglets," Edward repeats. "The things at the end of your laces."

"Oh," Bella laughs. "I didn't know they had a name." Her eyes dance around the room and she smiles to herself, though the smile seems tense.

Edward pauses, resting an elbow on his knee and leaning forward. "Are you okay? You look worried."

Bella shakes her head, standing up. "I'm fine. Are we bowling or what?"

She gives him a smile so sweet that he laughs and rolls his eyes at himself. _Paranoid much?_

"Have you ever been bowling?" Bella asks, linking her arm through Edward's as they step closer to the lane.

"Once, when I was eleven," Edward reminisces while every fiber of his being is aware of Bella's arm in his. "I went with my family for my birthday, and it was… interesting."

"You're not very skilled, then," Bella teases, picking up a bowling ball. She tries to hide how heavy it is by pretending to hug it to her stomach.

"And you cannot disguise the lack of strength in your muscles," Edward chuckles, taking the ball from her. "Besides, I go first."

Bella rolls her eyes and smirks before stepping back to watch him with her arms crossed.

Edward rolls his shoulder, suddenly feeling self conscious under her gaze. Clearing his throat, he shifts his feet and then aims, bringing his arm back and then going forward and letting the ball go.

He gets two pins down.

Bella slow-claps. "Very impressive."

"Shut up," Edward mutters. "I'd like to see you try with that frail arm of yours."

"I am not frail," Bella argues, punching him in the arm.

"Oh, come on, I barely felt that," Edward says, ignoring the slight throb radiating from where she hit him.

"You're gonna feel it when I get more pins than you," Bella shoots back with a grin, turning her back to him and facing the lane. She lets the bowling ball take the weight of her arm as she shifts back and forth, aiming with her eyes.

Edward folds his arms and watches her, trying hard not to stare at her behind as she moves.

"According to my calculations," he begins in a smug voice. "From where you're standing, there is an 8% chance that you will get more than one pin down. In other words, you will fail."

Bella looks over her shoulder, scowling at him. "Don't lie to me, Cullen."

Edward bites his lip, trying not to laugh. Of course, this time he's just making things up from the top of his head.

However, he still knows Bella isn't standing where she should.

"Here," he says, stepping forward and gently placing his hands on her waist. She stiffens slightly, but doesn't stop him as he moves her a few inches to the right. "Now you have a 40% chance of beating me."

He doesn't take his hands off of her waist, waiting for her to push him away.

She doesn't.

Instead, she looks up at him and smiles. "There is a 99% chance that you're trying to distract me from really kicking your butt."

Edward blinks at her. Is she _flirting?_

Reluctantly, he lets go and the steps back, at a loss for words.

Turning away from him, Bella swings her arm back and then aims.

Gutter ball.

Edward laughs. "Oh, yeah, Swan. You're absolutely kicking my ass."

Bella narrows her eyes, poking him in the ribs. "I did that on purpose."

Edward pokes her back. "Blasphemy."

She pokes him again. "Truth."

"Untruth."

'That's not even a word."

"It absolutely is."

They poke each other and dodge each other and laugh until they're panting from laughing so hard.

Bella clears her throat, her eyes darting nervously around the room. Her demeanor changes, shifting from carefree to tense and awkward.

"Are you hungry?" Edward asks to distract her.

"I could eat," she says casually, briefly putting a hand on his arm. Her hand slides over the fabric of his shirt before falling limply to her side. She flushes and forces a smile.

"You okay?" Edward asks for the second time that day.

"Great," she replies, looking around the room. "Where do we get food from?"

A few minutes later, they're carrying over trays of greasy fast food that smell better than they look. They slide into the booth near their lane and immediately start to dig in.

"Did you know that one hamburger can contain meat from over a hundred different cows?" Edward asks, biting into a fry.

Bella lowers the burger she was bringing to her mouth and grimaces. "Don't make me throw this at you. Or better yet, don't make me throw _up _on you."

Edward chuckles. "I'm just messing with you."

Not wanting her to starve, he doesn't tell her that the hamburger fact is actually true.

Bella nibbles the burger with narrowed eyes, her gaze once again unable to stay on Edward or anything in particular. She chews self consciously, and Edward worries it's his fault.

"I'm sorry if I disgusted you," he says remorsefully.

"It's fine," Bella says, shaking her head. She sets the burger down and smiles, reaching for a French fry. "Besides, nothing says 'fun night out' like floppy burgers and soggy fries!"

"Is that sarcasm I detect?"

"Of course."

Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"You're so strange tonight," Edward says.

Bella bites her lip. "Am I? I'm sorry. It's just that this is the first time that I've actually lied to my parents about what I'm doing here. I feel like they'll barge in any second."

Edward nods in understanding. "You poor, sheltered thing."

"Tell me about it."

"When are you going to tell them about breaking up with Ben?"

Bella eyes flick away from him for a second. "Not sure yet." She sighs, taking another sip of her shake before abruptly standing up. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick."

Edward can't shake off the feeling of discomfort, even after Bella leaves. He leans back and takes a deep breath, his knee bouncing up and down under the table.

He surveys the scene, taking in the details of the room for the first time. He'd been so caught up in Bella that he barely took the time to observe exactly where they'd been the whole night.

The blue and orange lights in the bowling alley cast eerie glows on the people that occupy it, making the room look like a nightclub without the loud music and throbbing lights. Heavy bowling balls hit the wood, people shriek with laughter, and bowling pins fall down with a clatter, all the sounds forming a chorus that give Edward a headache.

Keeping an eye out for Bella's return, he continues to gaze around the room.

That's when he sees him.

Ben Cheney.

Ben Cheney, not ten feet away, arms around another girl.

Edward doesn't know what to think at first. Initially, he's just mildly surprised. It's a bit of an unfortunate coincidence for Ben to be here on the same night as Edward and Bella, and it's even more unfortunate that Bella would have to see him with someone else.

The truth, suddenly so glaringly obvious, is so horrifying to Edward that he literally scoffs to himself for a moment, shaking his head at the possibility.

Bella wouldn't do such a thing.

However, his brain begins to battle with his emotions. What he wants to believe and what he knows are suddenly separating into two different things as the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place.

Bella's distracted behavior, nervous glances around the room, and uncharacteristically affectionate gestures had nothing to do with Edward and everything to do with Ben.

He almost feels guilty for thinking such a thing, but as he watches Ben holding the petite, blonde girl from behind, showing her how to throw a bowling ball, he can't see why it wouldn't be true.

Edward doesn't know who he's angrier with- Bella for doing it or himself for falling for it.

"Bathroom was crowded," Bella says as she slides into the booth.

Edward can't look at her. He focuses his gaze on the table and feels his stomach sink lower and lower, the burger that he ate threatening to come back to the surface. His heart pounds erratically and he's suddenly filled with such self-loathing that the will to do anything functional is gone.

"Edward?"

He looks up at Bella with his head still tilted downward, an unintentionally menacing look that results from the odd lighting of the room.

Bella's forehead wrinkles. "What's wrong?"

Edward almost laughs at the question. Instead of laughing, he keeps the sound tucked away.

Tucked away, where it decides to become a part of the bubbling anger and frustration and hurt that is threatening to swallow him whole.

He might even let it, if it meant disappearing forever.

Edward continues to stare at Bella, who stares back for a moment before her nervous gaze flits away.

Away from him and towards Ben.

That immediately confirms Edward's suspicion.

Confirms it and solidifies it and shakes him to his core. It slaps him in the face and throws him to the ground and kicks him when he's already down.

The hurt is so strong that he's afraid to open his mouth.

"What happened?" Bella asks, face tight with worry. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Edward's lips part and he's so afraid to ask.

But even though he already knows, he wants to hear her say it.

"Do you really want me here?" he finally murmurs, monotone.

"What?" Bella is unable to hear him over the sounds of the bowling alley, and she leans forward.

"Do. You. Want. Me. Here?" he asks again, annunciating every word clearly and in a gruff, thick voice she hasn't heard.

Bella blinks, shaking her head in confusion. "Of course I do."

"Do you?" he asks a little sarcastically. He can feel the torrent coming, feel the wave of words begin to crash against his mouth.

"Yes," Bella says emphatically, though he can tell she looks a little paler. "Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know, Bella, look around," Edward says, gesturing the room around them. "See anyone familiar? See anyone you wish I was?"

Bella's gaze automatically moves in Ben's direction again, and that's all the incentive Edward needs to stand up in disgust.

"I'm out of here," he says.

He stalks away as fast as he possibly can, feeling sicker and sicker by the second. How stupid he was to even think that she actually started liking him the way he likes her. How naïve. How completely and utterly idiotic of him to believe, even for a second, that he could fill the space that Ben Cheney left behind.

The cool night air is welcome on his heated skin, and he shoves his hand in his pockets as he storms through the parking lot.

"Goddamnit," he mutters angrily, clenching his teeth. He leans both fists into the hood of the Volvo, wet from the recent rainfall. He presses down hard to relieve some of the tension in his muscles, stiff from anger.

"Edward."

Bella's voice is the last thing he wants to hear. It's sweet and soft and entirely deceptive.

"Don't."

He says the word through still-clenched teeth.

"It wasn't like that," Bella says, and her voice is stronger than he expects.

"So you didn't use me to try and make Ben jealous?" Edward asks, turning around.

Bella shakes her head, mouth gaping open and shut. "I didn't know he was bringing her here."

"But you knew he would be here."

"No!"

Edward stares at her devastated expression, his emotions tearing him up inside. He wants to believe that Bella wouldn't do something like this, but the evidence is all there.

"Why don't I believe you?" he asks quietly.

Bella's mouth opens and closes in bewilderment, the confused look on her face almost enough to convince him that he's wrong.

Almost.

Without waiting for a response, he climbs in and shuts the door, leaving her standing outside.

Edward puts his forehead against the steering wheel and takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of leather and Armorall.

He lifts his head and rolls down the window, glancing out at her impassively.

"Do you need a ride?" he asks. It's the gentlest he's sounded all night.

Bella shakes her head. "No, but-"

Edward doesn't let her finish before he's rolling the window up, her devastated expression distorted by the raindrops on the glass.

He's listening to nothing but the voice in his head.

_Get away from her. Just get away from her. Go away, go far away. _

As he drives away, he sees Bella in his rearview mirror, growing smaller in the distance. The further away he gets from her, the heavier he feels.

Just like he had walked away from Alice for the last time earlier that week, he now feels as though this the last time he will let Bella Swan trample on his heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** *holds your hand* Trust me?

_Fowl Play _is a sparkly dark purple by ORLY.

See you super soon!


	13. It's Not Me, It's You

**Chapter 13: It's Not Me, It's You**

"Dad? Um… can you come get me?"

Bella's voice trembles as she clutches the phone to her ear, squeezing her eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" Charlie's voice is tense. She can hear movement on his end of the line, the thumping of boots against hardwood and the swinging of doors.

"Nothing, it's just time to go," she replies, chewing on a fingernail. She paces the parking lot, one arm folded over her stomach as the wind tangles her hair around her head.

"I thought Ben was dropping you off."

"We got in a fight." The lie falls easily from her lips, deception a thousand times easier over the phone.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

_No, _she thinks._ I hurt him._

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me; I just want to go home."

"I'm already halfway there, honey. Where will you be?"

"Parking lot."

As soon as she hangs up, Bella walks over to the wall of the building and leans against it, sliding down. Thankfully, the weather isn't chilly. Spring is here, and though the breezes are nice, Bella feels ice cold.

Her emotions rage inside of her, a mixture of guilt, sadness, and anger that is aimed at no one but herself.

Bella hears a familiar laugh and jumps at the sound. She turns her head to see Ben Cheney leaving the bowling alley, tugging the petite blonde along by the hand.

He sounds happy, carefree, and the girl's melodious laugh sounds the same.

Oddly enough, Bella doesn't feel the pang of jealousy she felt when she first saw Ben with his new girl. She doesn't wonder what the girl has that she doesn't and she doesn't feel bitter or hurt.

Maybe it's because her current emotions are too overwhelming to be concerned with petty jealousy, but Bella finds that she suddenly doesn't care about Ben Cheney at all.

Maybe she never did in the first place.

Bella watches with an unusual feeling of detachment as Ben and his date stop outside his car and kiss for a few moments.

This detachment is something that she doesn't understand at all. How can she go from being hurt that Ben moved on so quickly to not caring at all? Not even one bit? In fact, he could propose to the girl right there on the spot and Bella wouldn't bat an eye.

Once Ben and his date drive off, Bella is left alone with her thoughts and emotions.

Edward's face, distorted with pain and anger, flashes through her mind's eye. Each flash is like a slap in the face, a painful reminder of the hurt she's unintentionally caused someone who she really, truly cares about.

When Bella asked Edward to go out with her, her intention wasn't to ask because she wanted to make Ben jealous. In fact, although she knew Ben had a new girlfriend, she didn't know he would be at the bowling alley.

Bella felt that it _just wasn't fair_. It wasn't fair that Ben got to move on so fast, that he wasn't thinking of her like she thought of him. It wasn't fair that he had found someone else so fast and that she was left watching him from a distance.

She wanted to try it, too.

She wanted to try moving on and try having fun without him, and Edward was the only person she could turn to.

The only one she actually had a chance of enjoying herself with.

However, Bella wasn't prepared for seeing Ben at the bowling alley. To see him with his hands all over another girl was almost traumatizing.

Before Edward arrived at the alley, she had tried to hide from him. She cursed Forks' lack of entertaining places to take a date, and she cursed Ben for bringing his date here of all places.

But when her best friend showed up and she relaxed into his arms, she realized that she shouldn't be running from her ex, if that's even what he was.

No, she should show him that she could have fun without him, too.

Although her enjoyment in Edward's presence wasn't fake, the way in which she had subconsciously been altering her behavior was.

Maybe she could be with Edward in the way that he had once suggested.

She tried flirting, but it felt funny. She let him touch her. She smiled at him and tried to feel what Ben had made her feel.

But she couldn't, not with Ben there.

She never expected Edward to believe that she was using him to make Ben jealous. The shock and the hurt disabled her ability to explain things in a coherent manner, the situation spiraling completely out of her control.

Bella takes a deep, cleansing breath and leans her head against the brick wall behind her. She blinks back premature tears, tears that aren't supposed to arrive until she goes to bed.

Headlights shine on her face and she looks up to see her Dad's car pull up in front of her. Hastily, Bella gets to her feet and jogs over to the passenger side.

"Hi," she says, her voice raspy as she buckles into the seat. Charlie's eyes appraise her face in concern.

"You okay? What happened?"

Bella shakes her head. "Drive, please?"

Charlie watches her warily, and Bella sighs, rubbing her eyes and stalling in an attempt to come up with a lie.

"We just got into an argument, that's all," she mutters finally, gazing out the window. The street lights zoom past in orange-colored, hypnotizing blurs.

"What about?" Charlie asks.

"I don't want to talk about it."

There's a pause, and then, "I'm sure you two will work it out."

Bella can't help the bitter laugh that comes out. "I don't think so."

"What, are you done for good?" Charlie's skeptical tone makes Bella look at him. "Because I'm not complaining," he adds. "Just sayin'."

"Yeah, Dad," Bella sighs, looking out the window again. "We're done for good."

* * *

><p>Bella had made her father promise that he wouldn't tell Renee about the breakup. She doesn't need her mother's criticism on top of the heavy emotional baggage of the night.<p>

When they step through the front door, they see that the kitchen light is on. Bella tries to sneak on up the stairs, with her father ushering her from behind, but they're unable to escape.

"There you are," Renee says, coming out of the kitchen. She's in a bathrobe, tired creases under her eyes. "Your father barely said a word to me before he was out the door. Is something wrong?"

"Got in a fight with Ben," Bella says evasively, slowly edging her way to the staircase.

"Oh no," Renee says, sounding genuinely concerned. "Well, what happened?"

Bella shakes her head, slowly trudging upstairs. "Don't want to talk about it."

Her mother looks at Charlie, who merely shrugs like he doesn't know a thing.

"Maybe you two can work it out," she adds hopefully.

"I seriously doubt it, Mom."

It's the last thing Bella says before she makes it upstairs, and she hopes that the words sink in to her mother's head.

Once she's shut away in her room, Bella doesn't even turn the light on before she's heading towards the window.

Edward's bedroom light is off, and she wonders if he's home yet. He had to have made it before she did; maybe he's tucked away in bed.

Though, after tonight, she doubts he'd be fast asleep.

Not even bothering to get into her pajamas before climbing into bed, Bella crawls under the covers and pulls out her phone.

_**Can we talk? This is all a big misunderstanding. –B**_

Bella knows the text is a futile attempt at fixing things, but the thought of waking up tomorrow and not having Edward to talk to is almost too much to bear.

She waits and waits for a response, but gets nothing.

She falls asleep with the phone clutched to her chest.

* * *

><p>Having slept fitfully, Bella feels nauseated and exhausted the following morning.<p>

Upon opening her eyes, she feels a moment of intense relief. Maybe the whole disaster with Edward had been some horribly vivid nightmare that tapped into her innermost feelings. Maybe everything will be back to normal today and Edward wouldn't be mad at her at all.

Then, reality crashes down on her. Her stomach twists and her heart sinks, the weight of the situation grabbing hold of her once more.

Groggily, she reaches for her phone and prays that Edward replied. Unsurprisingly, she has no new messages or calls.

"Can I skip Church today?" Bella asks, slumping into a seat at the kitchen table. She hopes she looks as sick as she feels.

"Do you not feel well?" Renee asks, feeling her daughter's forehead and searching her face with sharp eyes.

Bella shakes her head, sighing for extra emphasis on her exhaustion.

"Is this about Ben?"

The question makes Bella wince a little. "Not…really."

_No, it's about Edward._

"What happened last night?" Renee asks, lowering herself into the seat next to her daughter. Immediately, Bella feels trapped.

She rubs her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

'That bad?"

Bella nods. "So, can I skip Church?"

Renee smile in a way that's almost sympathetic. "Maybe Church is what you need."

_Doubtful._

* * *

><p>Bella can't focus during Mass, not with Ben sitting across the aisle. He barely looks at her, but she's not the only one watching him.<p>

Renee's eyes also glance toward the young boy, distracted from the priest for the first time. She frowns, wondering why he doesn't seem as restless as Bella is. He doesn't fidget or glance at them or appear troubled at all.

When it's time to leave, Bella eagerly heads to the car. She doesn't loiter to socialize like she usually does; her main concern is going home and hiding until she can figure out how to get Edward to talk to her.

Bella sits in the car and buckles in, her father climbing in seconds after her. They sit in silence for a moment before Charlie says, "Where's your mother gone off to?"

Bella glances out the window of the parking lot, from which the lawns of the Church are visible.

She's blanches when she sees Renee speaking to Ben and his parents, a confused and borderline horrified look on her mother's face.

Dread, cold and unwanted, washes through Bella. She can feel the blood drain from her face, her mouth going dry as Renee begins to walk back to the car.

Renee climbs in and slams the door shut, a sound that causes Bella's head to ache. She holds her breath, waiting for the explosion.

"I just spoke to the Cheneys," Renee begins, voice deceptively calm. She turns to look at Bella in the back seat, expression cold. "Do you know what they told me?"

Bella's heart thrums in her chest, possibly loud enough for all of them to hear in the enclosed space. "I could take a guess."

"Ben and Bella broke up weeks ago," Renee speaks to Charlie, voice angry and disbelieving. "Weeks! Ben didn't even see her last night; in fact, he has a new girlfriend."

Charlie glares at Bella through the rearview mirror. "Is that true, Bella?"

_Fuck my life. _

It's the last thing she's able to think before she bursts into tears. The tears of anger and frustration and shame that she bottled up the night before come pouring out.

She tells them everything, a hell of a lot more than she should.

The fact of the matter is that she has to tell _someone._ She lost Ben, she lost Alice, and worst of all, she lost the one person who she could confide in. The one person who understood her.

She has no one left to turn to, so she crashes into the wall straight ahead of her, the wall that she's been evading the whole time. Her parents.

Bella tells them all about her friendship with Edward, how it bloomed on the very first day. She tells them about how her relationship with Ben was never really stable and how she turned to Edward, time and time again, when things got much too tough.

She tells them how he admitted to liking her and how she just couldn't seem to let him go.

She tells them how badly she hurt him the night before, about how she used him without realizing that she was doing it.

She doesn't care that they now know about how much she's been lying to them over the past few months.

Maybe it's a good thing if she ends up grounded until college.

That way, she won't be able to hurt anyone anymore.

"And now he won't talk to me," Bella sobs, wiping snot on her sleeve. "I feel like a horrible person and I hate myself. He's my best friend and it's killing me that he's mad at me, even though I deserve it. I just… don't know what to do anymore."

She gasps and hiccups, gratefully accepting the tissues that Charlie hands her. Blowing her nose loudly, she stares at her lap, the guilt and shame overwhelming her again.

"Oh, Bella," Renee sighs, sounding as exhausted as though she was the one crying and sobbing for the past twenty minutes. "Honey…"

Speechless. For once, her parents are speechless.

"I know," Bella sniffs. "I'm awful and I should be punished."

"You're not awful," Charlie says, voice gruff from disuse. "You're… you're just a kid."

"Getting involved with that boy was no good," Renee says quietly, resigned.

"It's not Edward's fault," Bella fires back immediately.

There's a pause and then, "Do you have feelings for this boy?"

The question comes from her father, his eyes boring into her from the rearview mirror.

Instead of immediately saying no, Bella pauses to think.

She pauses to _feel._

The realization she comes to is so painful and hits her so hard that it breaks down the wall of denial that she's built up for so long.

She's only able to nod once, a tiny, barely noticeable movement, before she bursts into tears once again.

* * *

><p>Monday isn't any better.<p>

Bella painted her nails black the night before, something that she rarely does. She also settles on a black blouse, pairing it with jeans and white flats to prevent herself from looking too goth.

Her mind is focused on one person and on one class.

Will he talk to her? Will he even look at her, acknowledge her presence if she speaks to him first?

There's really only one way to find out.

Bella doesn't know why she's surprised when she sees him sitting right where she expected him to. It's not like he would be cowardly enough to skip, like she had so briefly considered doing.

He's looking down at a book, though his posture is too stiff to show interest in the words in his hands.

Bella quietly sinks down into the seat next to him, acutely aware of his presence. The tension is so thick it's almost suffocating, and she wants to run from the room.

Edward turns a page, the sound seeming too loud in the silence between them. It cuts through her, a sharp emphasis on how he ignores her.

Bella opens her mouth and then closes it, the words getting caught in her throat. She rewrites them over and over in her head before mentally predicting his reaction to them.

With horror, she realizes that she has no idea how he'd react to anything she says.

Bella clears her throat, settling on improvisation. Maybe if he acknowledges her, she'll think of something to say.

Edward acts as though he doesn't hear her. He turns another page.

Bella shifts in her seat. "Um…"

He turns another page, more aggressively this time.

"Edward."

He takes a deep breath through his nose and holds it there before releasing it in one big gust through his mouth.

"Listen…" Bella finally chooses the right words to say, but she's abruptly cut off.

"Don't talk to me." Edward's voice is cold, hitting her like rain in the middle of winter.

Bella is taken aback by the harshness in his tone. Two days and he's still as upset as he was on Saturday? She expected him to be a lot more introverted and cold, but the lingering anger is a surprise.

It shuts her up for the entire class.

* * *

><p>The silence doesn't last.<p>

When the bell rings, Bella isn't surprised that Edward is the first to leave the room.

This time, she runs after him.

It's difficult for Bella to follow Edward, especially because of his fast pace and long legs. It's even more difficult when the hall begins to fill with students, a few people obstructing her view of him.

Edward leaves through a set of back doors that exit out onto the parking lot. Bella hurries after him, unconcerned about the people she momentarily crashes into.

By the time she bursts through the doors, Edward's already halfway to the Volvo. She briefly wonders when his mother actually handed over the keys, but the thought is wayward.

"Edward!" Bella yells the distance, only vaguely aware of the drizzle.

Edward pauses, but doesn't turn around. His hands are tucked into his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the rain. His hair begins to darken from a bronze to a brown, dark spots materializing on the back of his shirt.

Not having expected him to stop, Bella slows her jog down to a walk before stopping a few feet away from him.

When Edward turns to face her, the mask of complete indifference is unexpected. She can barely see his eyes through his rain-splattered glasses, obstructing her view of his feelings.

"Just say it," Edward says, monotone. "Go on."

Now that he's finally giving her a chance to explain, Bella doesn't even know where to begin.

"Just don't start with an apology," Edward adds when she opens her mouth.

Bella wraps her arms around herself. "I just need you to know that I _wasn't_ trying to make Ben jealous." Edward snorts, and it rubs her the wrong way.

"_I_ was jealous, okay?" Bella finally admits, raising her voice. "Ben had found someone else and it wasn't fair that he could move on so quickly. It hurt me."

"So you took it out on me."

"No!" She hesitates for a moment. "I just… I wanted to try it, too."

Edward narrows his eyes in momentary confusion. "What? 'Moving on'?" Bella nods. "With me?" He sounds doubtful.

Bella nods. "With you."

Saying it feels strange, really. Admitting her thoughts is one thing, but turning emotions she didn't even realize she had into words is much harder.

"Nice to know that I was your rebound," Edward mutters.

Bella finds herself growing angry. Why won't he just _believe _her?

Why is he turning her apology into a vicious reminder of her mistake?

"God, it's so much more than that," Bella says, voice cracking and a lump forming in her throat. She doesn't know if she's blinking back tears or rain.

"Oh, right," Edward says sarcastically. "I forgot I was your pawn to use as well."

"I never meant to use you."

"But you did. You've been using me since the day I met you."

"That's not true."

"You only came to me when you needed me," Edward points out, voice pained. "When you needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to make you feel better about yourself, your choices, your _life…_ When everything was going perfect, did I ever hear from you? No."

"That has nothing to do-"

"It has everything to do with it, Bella. _Everything_." He practically spits the word in her face. "You called me your best friend, but are you mine?"

"Of course I am," she says adamantly. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"Because you don't know a thing about me," he responds. "Not one thing. You never asked, and you never cared."

Bella's shaking her head in denial, but she can't rebut anything that he's saying to her. His voice is a violent roar against the cold rain, an extra effect that punishes her.

"I do care about you," she says, and it's the sincerest thing she's ever said to him. "A lot. Maybe I didn't realize it before, but I do now."

"'Now' is too late," Edward says, shaking his head. "'Now' isn't going to make up for all the times I kept myself up wondering when the hell you were going to realize that your daydreams were lies and that the _one_ person that could make you happy, _wanted_ to make you happy, was right in front of you. What was keeping you away from me, Bella? Was it the way I look?"

"What? No!"

"Then what was it? You always told me I was sweet, a good friend, a great person… What was it that held you back?"

"I liked Ben," she responds, but it sounds like such a lie, even to her.

"No, you didn't," Edward says exasperatedly. He raises his voice in desperation for her to understand. "Don't you get it? You never liked Ben; you liked the _idea _of Ben. You liked everything you _thought_ he was and you turned him into some perfect person in your head. You spent so much time in this little fantasy in your head that you failed to see that he _didn't care about you._"

Edward pauses, pants, shakes his head before continuing. "He didn't care about you," he repeats, quieter. "Not like I did."

"Did?" Bella asks in a small voice. _Not anymore?_

"Did," Edward repeats, and Bella so wishes she could see his eyes to see if he really means it.

Bella shivers, wiping wet hair out of her eyes. "So, that's it? You don't care anymore? Just like that?"

"I can't," Edward says, shoulders slumped in defeat. "I am physically and mentally incapable of letting myself…." He trails off, sighing shakily and sniffing from the cold.

"Besides, it's not 'just like that'," he adds, voice going cold and emotionless. "It's been building up over time. Every time that I cared, every time that I took care of you when you cried, when I talked to you late into the night so you wouldn't over-think, when I tried to _show_ you through everything that I did that I..." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't let myself go through that again. Even with Ben gone."

"What are you saying?" Bella asks, dread falling to the pit of her stomach. "You're… you don't want to be my friend anymore?"

It takes him a moment to respond.

"I don't want to be your anything."

The words, spoken so indifferently, hit her harder than the now pouring rain, and chill her worse than her drenched clothing.

"What do you want me to do, then?" she asks, desperation in her words. "What do you want me to say? You can't just cut me off…"

Edward snorts bitterly, so unlike him. "Oh, I think I can."

He starts to walk backwards, towards the car, and Bella feels the panic begin to well up.

"Don't do this," she cries, surprised at the anger in her voice. "Please!"

Edward doesn't respond. He turns his back to her and climbs into the car before she even realizes what's happening.

"Wait," she yells, stumbling uselessly towards the car, but its peeling away before she can take three steps.

Edward's car is long gone before she's able to force herself to move. It could be minutes, hours, days before she becomes aware of the punishing rain, colder and heavier than she remembers it being.

When she walks back towards the building, shivering and shaking profusely, her steps are heavy from her drenched clothing.

Nothing, however, is heavier than the weight in her gut and the undeniable sense that nothing will ever be the same.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Right. That thing I said a couple chapters ago about holding on tight? Don't let go, Jack!

_It's Not Me, It's You _is a pretty dull pink by ORLY.

:)


	14. Canberra't Without You

**Chapter 14- Canberra't Without You**

"I need to get out of this house."

Bella speaks the words to an empty living room, the only sound being that of the grandfather clock that ticks in the foyer. It ticks and ticks, signifying seconds gone by and time wasted.

It's Saturday, approximately five torturous days since the parking lot disaster with Edward. Soon after, Bella found herself horribly ill with a virus. Missing out on school for the rest of the week, which happened to be the last week before spring break, she finds herself with two weeks of no school.

Two weeks of no Edward.

Throughout her sick days, she considered calling him to set things straight. The weight of the situation had been heavy on both her mind and her body, her heart most of all. To go such a long time without being in contact him was practically unbearable.

It was Edward's words that prevented her from making that phone call or sending that text.

"_I don't want to be your anything."_

She's shed tears over those words, hearing them as an echo in her head. They've torn her apart on the inside, the harsh result of what she's done to him without even realizing it. After seeing what she's done, the pain has been infinitely worse.

Now, she wonders how to proceed. Edward may not want to be her friend anymore, but that doesn't mean they won't run into each other again. In fact, it's absolutely inevitable. The thought makes her stomach twist with anxiety, but also gives her hope that maybe things will be all right again.

Maybe.

She knows better than to be overly optimistic, especially after what Edward told her about keeping her head out of the clouds.

He gave her words to live by, and she started living by them that same day.

* * *

><p>For the entirety of spring break, the Cullens' driveway is empty. There is no sign of Carlisle's black Mercedes or Esme's Volvo, and Bella wonders if they've gone away for the vacation. She finds herself glancing out the kitchen window frequently, anticipating their return.<p>

More often than not, she drops the curtain in disappointment.

Two nights before the end of spring break, Bella peeks out of the window and gasps when she sees that the driveway is no longer empty. She stares at the lone Volvo, half expecting it to turn to dust in front of her eyes.

When the car doesn't disappear, she exhales and creates a foggy spot on the window. Her stomach is tight with excitement and anxiety, and she knows she'll have to face Edward again soon.

When spring break is over, Bella looks forward to going back to school. She's had time enough to cry, to be angry, and to finally decide that she can't possibly let go of Edward.

He means more to her than she ever realized, and she would do anything she could to win him back.

It is with a fierce determination that Bella leaves her house that Monday morning.

In the crowded hallway, Bella searches for Edward. Because of his height and unique hair color, he's usually the first person her eyes land on.

Minutes pass, and then the bell rings with no sign of him.

Bella loiters in the halls for a bit, thinking that maybe Edward is running late. It's never happened, not as far as she knows, but it's still a possibility.

When the hallway empties out and the warning bell rings, she frowns and slowly makes her way to class.

* * *

><p>Bella freezes in her tracks when she reaches Biology class and sees Edward's seat empty. The person that had been walking behind her stumbles into her back and then pushes past her, mumbling a hostile, "watch it".<p>

On any other day, such unfriendliness would have bothered Bella.

But now, the only thing she worries about is the absence of her best friend. Well, ex-best friend. The thought alone is a painful one.

The class goes by painstakingly slow, and Edward's absence is tangible. When the bell rings, Bella doesn't bother going to lunch. With both Alice and Edward out of her life, she has no one to turn to.

All of the words that Bella had planned to say to Edward become a jumbled mess in her mind until they disappear altogether.

* * *

><p>Upon returning home, Bella considers paying a visit to the Cullens. Is Edward sick? Does his family know about what happened? Do they all hate her now?<p>

Before resorting to showing up uninvited, Bella decides to wait until the following day.

However, Edward isn't in school the following day, or the next, or the next. The light in his bedroom window remains off most of the time, though she catches it on every now and then.

Bella begins to worry, and sends him a text that he doesn't reply to.

After another entire week without seeing Edward, Bella's overtly concerned thoughts drive her to pay a visit to the Cullens. She makes sure to do it when neither of her parents are home.

The Volvo is in the driveway, and Bella realizes that she hasn't seen Carlisle's Mercedes at all. She rings the doorbell, feeling a little sick. Her stomach twists and turns, threatening to return her lunch.

When no one answers the door, she rings the doorbell a second time.

Again, she gets no response.

Stepping back, Bella gazes up at the house, looking for signs of movement. She doesn't know what she expects to see, but she doesn't see anything that gives her answers. There is no fluttering of the curtains, no sounds from an open window.

Just a pretty yellow house, pretty and perfect and reminding her that she doesn't belong.

Confused and saddened, Bella begins to make her way back to her own home.

But not before her eyes land on Alice's house.

Even the brief thought of approaching Alice for any reason frightens Bella a little bit. They're not exactly on good terms, not since she told Edward how Alice had threatened her. Alice must hold nothing but hatred for Bella at this point, and this is a fact that she doesn't need proven.

But Alice may still know if Edward is sick.

Setting her shoulders in determination and promising herself that she won't let Alice intimidate her, Bella stomps down the sidewalk and rushes towards Alice's house before she can change her mind and chicken out.

After ringing the doorbell, Bella crosses her arms tightly under her chest and takes a deep breath through her nose. The spring weather is deceptively calm and pretty, a fact she fails to enjoy.

It takes Alice a while to answer the door, so long that Bella was growing relieved that she may be off the hook.

"What?" Alice snaps.

The last time Bella stood in front of Alice was in the library all those weeks ago. After that, aside from brief glimpses in the hallway, Bella hasn't seen her ex-friend.

Alice's clothes seem too big for her body and there are bruise-like shadows under her eyes. She gives Bella a scornful glare, though it seems as though she needs to put all of her effort into that action alone.

"Alice," Bella gasps despite herself. "Are you okay?"

Alice's jaw clenches. "Fuck off."

She moves to shut the door, but not before Bella stops her by placing her hand on the door. "Wait!"

Alice looks at Bella through the half-closed door, eyes narrowed.

Bella lets out a long breath. "Have you heard from Edward?"

Alice's eyes narrow into slits, so thin that Bella would have thought they were closed if she wasn't standing so close.

"What do you mean?" Alice asks.

"He's kind of MIA," Bella says, worry in her voice. "The Cullens were gone for a while, and their car is back but he hasn't been in school…"

The door opens a little wider and Alice looks thoughtful, and maybe even a little concerned.

"They always go somewhere on spring break," Alice mutters. "I thought you'd know that, what with you being _besties_ with Edward."

The venom in her voice, though expected, is still a slap in the face to Bella. This time, instead of intimidating her, it irritates her.

Especially since whether or not she's "besties" with Edward is still precarious, a fact that Bella hates to be reminded of.

"Oh my God," Bella snaps. "Get over it." Her frustrations are manifesting themselves in her words, and she takes delight in the slightly shocked expression on Alice's face. "I get that you're pissed because you think I was hurting Edward, but we talked about it and he's _fine_." Well, _was_ fine.

"Get over it?" Alice echoes in disbelief. "Get over it? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Bella sets her jaw and crosses her arms in front of her chest again. Her mouth twitches and she fights back the instinct to run away, choosing to stand her ground.

"You don't just _get over_ losing someone, Bella," Alice says, eyes flashing. "You don't _get over_ losing the only person that cares about you to someone who doesn't give a shit about him."

"I do care about him," Bella argues. "More than you will ever know."

"You don't get it," Alice says, eyes welling with unexpected tears. "He was the only person I had. The only one. Then you came and fucked everything up." Her voice rises with every syllable, and Bella finds her own rising as well.

"He was the only one I had, too!" Bella yells. "The only reason he stopped being your friend is because you threatened me! That is _not_ my fault."

"I wouldn't have threatened you if you had been paying attention to how much you were hurting him! And that is such bullshit- you had Ben."

"Ben didn't _get_ me!" Saying the words without thinking about them first offers new clarity to the situation. Bella shakes her head. "He didn't know me at all; he wasn't there for me like Edward was."

Alice snorts, slowly shaking her head. "And you realized that just in time to screw everything up."

"Well, I'm sorry if I screwed things up for you," Bella says with heavy sarcasm. "I wasn't aware. God, Alice, it's like you're in love with him."

Alice glares at her, a muscle twitching in her jaw. She breaths heavily, nostrils flared, and Bella blinks as the realization sets on her.

"Oh my god," Bella gasps. "You love him."

The two girls stare at each other, unblinking as the words settle in between them.

"I never knew," Bella whispers, still stunned.

"Yeah, well, it's too late now, isn't it?" Alice says.

"That doesn't make sense," Bella says, shaking her head. "You had Jasper, and you encouraged Edward to go out with Angela."

"Not that it's any of your business," Alice snarls, "but this was after Jasper cheated on me with my mother. As for Angela, I'd rather him go out with her and ignore me than go out with you."

Bella takes a step back like she's just been slapped, hurt rushing through her.

"Why do you hate me so much, Alice?"

Alice gives her a long, hard stare. She takes so long to respond that Bella thinks she isn't going to answer.

When Alice speaks, her voice is low with resignation.

"Because you are everything he wants and everything I wish I was."

She quietly shuts the door, leaving Bella to stand and stare at the peeling paint on the door.

* * *

><p>Her thoughts become too much. The longer she goes without seeing Edward, the crazier she feels. The worried, clawing, desperate feeling that plagues her day and night finally pushes its way to the surface and turns her thoughts into actions.<p>

Bella is not even nervous as she walks toward the Cullens home for the second time, merely three days after her conversation with Alice.

Nothing but the strength of her resolve pushes her forward, along with the small sliver of hope that maybe she can set things right.

Taking a deep breath and giving herself a mental pep talk, Bella rings the doorbell and holds her breath.

The door opens just a crack, only enough to reveal a small head of blond hair.

"Hi, Maggie," Bella says in surprise.

"Hi," Maggie responds, smiling shyly. She's still half hidden behind the door, shuffling her feet anxiously.

The nervous behavior is odd for the usually exuberant child, and Bella hesitates before saying anything else.

"Is Edward home?" Bella asks, the name tripping awkwardly from her mouth.

Maggie shakes her head. "He's gone."

Bella feels like the floor has been kicked from underneath her feet, a cold hand clamping around her throat. She's a second away from hyperventilation when Esme's voice pulls her away from catastrophic thinking.

"Bella? How are you, honey?"

Bella blinks at Esme, carefully taking in her put together appearance. She looks just as she always has, no signs of grief evident in her neat hair or perfectly ironed clothing.

"I'm… fine," Bella says slowly, attempting a shaky smile.

"Would you like to come in?" Esme eyes her warily, as though she's worried Bella might burst into tears.

"Oh no, I was just looking-"

"Looking for Edward?" Esme finishes the sentence, giving Bella a sympathetic smile. There's sadness in her eyes, an unmistakable pool of regret.

Bella nods quietly, swallowing. Her throat is bone dry.

"Why don't you come in," Esme asks again, opening the door wider.

"It's okay," Bella says quickly. Where the inside of the Cullen home once looked like warmth and welcome, it now screams of awkwardness and regret. "If Edward's not here, I'll just come back later."

"He's in Chicago, sweetie," Esme says gently. Bella doesn't understand the pity on her soft face. "With his grandmother." She bites her lip before continuing. "Carlisle's father passed away a few weeks ago and we were up there for spring break. Edward took his finals online. Didn't he tell you he was graduating a year early?"

Bella blinks, Esme's words trying and yet failing to permeate into her head.

"No…" Bella whispers. "He didn't tell me that."

Why would he, if they were no longer on speaking terms? And why _wouldn't_ he graduate a year early, especially with his intelligence? It's really no surprise.

"Bella…" Esme trails off hesitantly and leans against the doorframe. "Did something… _happen_ between the two of you?" She looks like she regrets the question, but her eyes never waver from Bella's.

"It's just that, he changed so much," Esme continues, shaking her head. "He sulked and he moped and seemed very, very upset and he just wouldn't talk about it. He got a little better after graduation, but…"

"When is he coming back?" Bella asks, the hope audible in her voice.

Esme shakes her head and moves aside so Bella can see inside the home.

Brown cardboard boxes sit on various spots of the foyer, some empty and others overflowing.

"We're moving to Chicago," Esme says regretfully. "Edward's not going to come back because he's starting college in the fall."

"I wanted to make everything better," Bella chokes, blinking back tears. "I came to fix things, but I'm too late."

"Honey…"

Bella jerks away from Esme's outstretched hand.

"I'm sorry," she sobs, saying the right words to the wrong person. She walks backwards, away from the door.

As she stumbles down the porch steps and half-runs back towards her own home, she's swallowed whole by the painful realization that it's _over_.

Everything she had with Edward, everything that had come so easy, everything that had made her happy is gone.

Edward is gone and she's not going to get him back.

If he had wanted to change things, if he had wanted to stay in touch, he would have done it.

But he hadn't.

He left, and with him he took the only part of her that made her feel like Forks was home.

Bella realizes that the fight in the rain had been the last time she would ever see Edward Cullen.

The worst part is that she doesn't realize she loves him until she's lost him for good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay. Deep breaths.

I know this was shorter than usual, but no worries. The next chapter is already done and will be up very soon.

_Canberra't Without You _is a pale, peachy-ish color by OPI.

See you next time.

:)


	15. Awakening

**A/N:** Thank you guys so, so much for being awesome and patient and for holding on tight through the heartache. It's all going to be worth it, I promise.

And of course, my lovely ladies **Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove **get all the credit for the fact that what you read actually makes sense.

Consider this Part II of the story. Exciting times ahead!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Awakening<strong>

**THREE YEARS LATER**

Bella stands up straight and wipes sweat from her brow, letting out a sigh of relief. Hands on her hips, she looks around her small bedroom, now mostly empty.

The last time the room had looked this lifeless, it had been littered with cardboard boxes and she had been an optimistic, fifteen year old girl with nothing but high hopes for a new life in a new town. Her eyes had been alight with excitement, her mind full of possibilities.

Now, the room is empty save for her bed, dresser, and the suitcase that sits open on her mattress.

Looking back, Bella feels like the girl who first came here had been an entirely different person. Everything about her had been drastically different from the nineteen year old girl that stands in the room now.

Time had somehow ticked by, day by day, week by week, year by year. Bella's main focus had been on school, on passing all of her exams and graduating on time.

Three years may not be a very long time, but it feels like ages for Bella. She feels ten years older than she really is.

"All set?"

Renee's voice startles Bella, and she turns to see her mother leaning against the doorframe. Renee has aged over the past few years as well, her hair graying at the temples and wrinkles branching out around her eyes.

"Just about," Bella says. She glances around the room and searches for any random belongings that she couldn't possibly part with.

Her vast nail polish collection has been packed away, as well as all of her journals. She almost considered leaving the journals here, dusty and unused on their shelf, but she couldn't bear the thought. Maybe she will be able to pick up a pen again one day.

Walking over to her suitcase, Bella zips it tightly, feeling like she's just zipped up her entire life. Of course, the rest of her life has already been shipped off to her new home.

Renee is eying Bella with tears in her eyes and a smile that fails at masking them.

"Mom," Bella sighs. "We're not even at the airport yet."

"I know," Renee says, voice cracking. She clears her throat. "It's just… New York is so far away…"

"That's the point," Bella says before she can stop herself.

Renee doesn't even flinch at the comment. It's a conversation they've had time and time again, and Bella refused to see any way other than her own. Despite her mother's guilt tripping behavior, Bella had made sure that she did what she felt was best.

Bella glances at her phone to check the time. "We should get going. I don't want to miss my flight. Where's Dad?"

Renee smiles sadly. "Where he always is."

* * *

><p>"So this is it, huh?" Charlie asks.<p>

Bella blinks back tears. "Yeah…"

Charlie sighs and moves to get up off the couch, but Bella rushes to him.

"No, don't," she says. "Your foot."

"It's fine."

"Dad."

"It's fine."

Bella sits down next to her father and pulls him into a hug, her head under his chin.

Soon after Bella's senior year of high school ended, Charlie had been in a car accident that crushed the front of his car and fractured his foot and ankle. The injury had required eight weeks in a wheelchair, eight with crutches, followed by a walking cast and the help of his wife and daughter to get around the house.

The extensive care had required Bella to attend a local community college for her first year of higher education, as well as get a part time job. With both Renee and Bella working and taking care of Charlie, the past year had been an extremely stressful one for the family.

However, now that Charlie could take care of himself for the most part, he insisted that Bella go away to college as she had planned. Luckily for her, one of the colleges that had offered her a full academic scholarship had been generous enough to put the scholarship on hold for one year.

Now, it was time to transfer and move on with her life.

"Now, don't you feel guilty," Charlie says, gazing at her knowingly. "I'm as healthy as a horse and don't think I don't appreciate everything you did to help my sorry ass this year."

"Dad," Bella half-heartedly scolds.

Charlie gives her a squeeze and then lets her go. "You be good. Go do your writing thing and win a Pulitzer, all right?"

Bella wipes a tear and laughs. "I'll be lucky if I survive all my classes."

"You can get through anything, Bells," Charlie says, voice gruff with emotion. "You've turned out to be a hell of a lot stronger than you think."

Bella doesn't think he understands how the past three years have proven that statement to be true.

* * *

><p>"Well, this is it," Renee says quietly.<p>

Bella turns to face her mother, who looks so tired. The bustling sounds of the airport around them barely register with her as Renee reaches up to touch her face.

"How did you grow up so fast?" she asks.

Bella smiles sadly just as the announcement for her flight echoes around them.

"I should go," Bella says.

Renee doesn't hesitate in pulling her daughter into a hug, an action so rare that Bella feels almost uncomfortable. She closes her eyes and hugs her mother back, squeezing her tightly and inhaling her scent. She smells like cinnamon.

"I love you so much, honey," Renee says. "We're going to miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," Bella says, and she means it. Just a few years ago, she had counted down the days until she could be further away from her mother. Now that the day is finally here, she's filled with just the slightest bit of panic.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Bella pulls away and puts on the most convincing smile she can muster.

"Be safe," Renee says, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Be good and keep God in your heart. I love you."

Bella can't help but feel lighter as she walks away. Wheeling her suitcase behind her as she walks towards the terminal, her posture relaxes and she feels a rush of excitement.

This is her chance to start over.

This is her chance to really move on from Forks and everything that took place in the last three years.

This is her chance to leave the ghosts of her past behind and begin the next chapter in her life as the new Bella Swan.

The new Bella Swan, someone who has learned from her mistakes and will do anything to make sure she doesn't make them again.

* * *

><p>One seven hour flight, an hour long bus ride, and thirty minute cab ride later, Bella is staring up at the place that will be her home.<p>

Mount Gordon University's sprawling campus stands before Bella as an intimidating invitation to her new life. The old, brownstone buildings tower over her, and the surrounding greenery seems much too bright in comparison.

Dozens of students and their parents crowd the sidewalk of one of the dormitories, towing luggage out of cars, talking loudly, hugging, and even crying.

The sight is overwhelming and Bella is glad that the farewell process hadn't come with her to college.

Shutting the trunk of the cab and paying the driver, Bella grabs the handle of her suitcase and wheels it behind her as she makes her way through the crowds.

The buzzing of voices all around her fills her with an odd combination of loneliness and excitement. She's excited at the prospect of meeting new people, but being on her own in such a large place is frightening as well.

After staring at a map and the paper with her Dorm information on it, getting lost, asking for directions and getting lost again, Bella finally finds herself in front of Dormitory C, exactly where she needs to be.

She is huffing and puffing her way up a staircase to the third floor, her suitcase thumping noisily behind her, when a deep voice stops her.

"Need a hand?"

She pauses and turns to be greeted by the brightest smile she's ever seen. With skin the color of caramel and hair as black as tar, a tall, broad-shouldered figure gently pries Bella's suitcase out of her hand. He can't be more than a year or two older than her.

"Oh no, it's okay…" Bella says a little too late.

"You looked like you were about pass out," the guy says, already walking up the steps with her suitcase. "We _do_ have an elevator."

"I didn't know that," Bella says, trying not to stare at his behind as she follows him.

"Are you a freshman?"

"Sophomore. Transfer."

"Oh, cool. Where from?"

"Port Angeles Community College."

"Never heard of it. I'm Jacob, by the way."

"Bella."

"Pretty. It suits you. You on the third floor?"

"Yeah, room 310."

They reach the landing and Bella reaches for her suitcase, but Jacob doesn't hand it over.

"You're gonna need my help maneuvering these halls," he says before opening the door at the top.

The hallway is crowded. It's only a little wider than the hallways in Bella's house, and students hustle and bustle from room to room, carrying furniture and shouting to one another.

It's loud, and yet oddly welcoming.

Jacob lifts the suitcase up and carries it like it weighs nothing as Bella follows him into the madness. Bella's steps stop and stall as she constantly avoids colliding into someone.

Jacob nods to several people in greeting, easily dodging others. He catches a Frisbee before it can hit Bella in the face. "Come on, Smith, this ain't the quad," he says. He hurls the Frisbee back with too much force and the other guy dodges it with a guffaw.

They arrive at room 310 and Jacob sets the suitcase down. He knocks on the door, which is wide open, and peeks his head in, whistling as though to beckon a dog.

"Where you at, Char-Coal?" he hollers obnoxiously loudly. "I have your roommate. Give me the money and I won't hurt her."

Bella giggles and steps around him, entering the small room. A moment later, a tiny girl runs toward them from what appears to be an adjoining bathroom.

Bella is almost knocked over when the girl leaps up in true gymnast fashion and hurls herself into Jacob's arms. Her small but muscular legs wrap around his waist, and she looks like a little girl in comparison to his large form.

"You didn't text me all summer, asshole!" she says.

Jacob laughs, squeezing her. "Well, if ignoring you for three months gets you to wrap your legs around me, I'm not ever talking to you again."

The girl slips off of Jacob and turns to Bella. "Gosh, I'm sorry," she says contritely, pushing her glasses up. Her hair is white blond and cut short, earrings shaped like open umbrellas dangling from her ears. She's barefoot and wears an oversized plaid shirt that probably belongs to a man, along with neon purple tights.

"I'm Charlotte," she offers, holding out her hand. The nail polish on her fingernails is horribly chipped, and Bella tries not to cringe at the pet peeve.

"Bella," she says, smiling politely.

"You're cute," Charlotte says. "Can I draw you?"

"For fuck's sake, Char," Jacob says. "The girl just got here. Let her breathe." He looks to Bella and cups his hand around his mouth, whispering conspiringly. "Studio Art Major. Could she be a bigger cliché?"

Charlotte aims a punch at Jacob's gut and Bella laughs, picking up her suitcase. The last time she felt this comfortable around people she'd just met, she was the new girl in high school.

At the memory of her old friends, Bella's smile fades.

"Emmett was looking for you," Charlotte tells Jacob. "Go reunite with the better half of your bromance."

Jacob rolls his eyes and gives Bella a wink before leaving. "See you later. Don't be a stranger."

Charlotte shuts the door and turns to Bella with a horrified look on her face. "Oh my god, I am such a shitty roommate. I've been here like an hour and my crap is already all over the place."

"It's okay," Bella says, stepping over what looks like a Barbie doll with its limbs detached. She notices boxes of the rest of her stuff already sitting by a bed. It's clear which bed is hers- Charlotte's is a mess.

The dorm room consists of two beds across from each other, one large window, two desks, and a small bathroom. It's smaller than Bella's room at home, and she feels slightly claustrophobic.

"You get used to the size after a while," Charlotte says, plopping down on the bed to the right of the door. She crosses her legs. "Where are you from?"

"Forks," Bella answers, sitting down on hers. Exhaustion begins to catch up with her.

"Washington?" Charlotte asks, and Bella raises her brows.

"You've heard of it?"

Charlotte shrugs. "Sure. With a weird name like that, you don't forget where that is."

Bella nods, glancing out the window. The campus' quad stretches out before her, a vast distance of green bordered by the rest of the buildings on campus. Students litter the grass, some already sunbathing, others throwing around a football, and some just sitting and chatting.

Bella wants to be out in the sun with them, and for the first time since arriving to college, she realizes that she _can_.

She can do whatever she wants. She doesn't need permission. She doesn't have to be sneaky. She doesn't have to lie and worry about getting caught.

She is undeniably _free_.

The revelation makes her laugh, a noise that sounds almost relieved. Charlotte gives her a curious look, tilting her head to the side.

Bella shakes her head, grinning. "I think I'm going to love it here."

* * *

><p>After Bella calls her parents to assure them that she arrived safely, she begins to unpack. Because of the limited space, most of her stuff stays in the suitcase under the bed.<p>

Her nail polish collection and journals go on her desk, and she organizes everything in a neat manner, a complete contradiction to Charlotte's messy side of the room.

Rummaging through her suitcase for a pair of fresh socks to wear, Bella stumbles upon some of her little trinkets, mainly her jewelry.

One bracelet in particular stands out to her.

Bella stares at the pink and silver beads, eyes glazing over with nostalgia. Her mind travels back three years and the wave of emotion that hits her is too strong.

Letting out a shuddery breath, she shoves the bracelet aside and shuts the suitcase.

Bella doesn't know why she brought the bracelet with her. Upon emptying out her closet to pack for college, she had found the shoebox that held things of sentimental value. She didn't want to take anything from the box with her, in case something special went missing, but she ended up peeking in and finding the memory of that Valentine's Day.

She had snatched it out, thrown it in her suitcase, and forced herself to forget about it.

Now, she distracts herself by changing into clothing that isn't rumpled from all the traveling.

Gone are the bright colors and knee socks she wore in high school. Now, she settles on neutral colors: a blouse that's as brown as her hair, dark blue jeans, and tan sandals.

As she unpacks, she casually chats with Charlotte and gets to know her. Charlotte is a sophomore as well, and hails from Wisconsin. Her goal had been to attend one of New York City's top art schools, but after being rejected from all, she settled on the Mount. Her boyfriend, Peter, is a senior and on the university's volleyball team.

Charlotte has an energy that Bella has never seen before. She talks without tiring and has an open, friendly demeanor that makes Bella feel warm and welcomed.

Despite the happy feeling Charlotte brings to Bella, she tries to keep her end of the conversation as carefully controlled as possible.

After all, it would be best to not make the same mistake twice.

* * *

><p>Bella blinks against the wind and walks through the quad, smiling as she takes in the atmosphere. The sun is bright and warm against her skin as she observes her surroundings. She's overwhelmed by the amount of young adults, never having been around so many people around her age. To think that she'll be <em>living<em> here is still a strange idea, albeit an exciting one.

"The Student Union is where we hang out most of the time," Charlotte explains as she walks beside Bella. "That's where all the clubs are, where the pool hall is, where the on-campus parties happen. But the _real_ parties are either in the dorms or the frat houses. Sometimes in off-campus bars."

Bella nods, unsure of whether or not she'll ever attend such parties. A party girl reputation is not how she wants to start her college career.

"Hey, listen," Charlotte says, suddenly looking hesitant. Her blue eye shadow matches her eyes, glittering in the sunlight. "You don't have to hang out with us if you don't want to. It's totally cool if you wanna do your own thing…"

Bella shakes her head. "No, it's fine. Meeting new people wouldn't hurt, right?"

Charlotte smiles. "Not at all."

* * *

><p>The Student Union is a three-story, concrete building that stands out from the others on campus because of its modernity. As Charlotte opens a set of double doors under an awning that reads "On Cue", Bella's ears are greeted by the clattering of billiard balls.<p>

They walk into a fairly empty room with neon green walls and six large pool tables.

Bella immediately spots Jacob by one of the tables, alongside three other people.

"Over here!" Jacob calls, waving his cue stick in the air.

Charlotte rolls her eyes. "You're not exactly hard to miss. Quit your hollerin'."

Jacob flashes Bella a wide grin, and she finds herself feeling a little warm in the face.

_Wow, he's attractive_, she thinks to herself. Immediately after she thinks that, she feels herself shutting down. _Don't even think about._

Bella offers Jacob a tight smile. "Hey."

She glances over to his friends, two guys and one girl. One of the guys has his arms around Charlotte, and Bella realizes that this must be Peter.

"Meet Bella, guys," Charlotte says. "Bella, this is Peter," she nods to the guy holding her, "Emmett, and Rosalie." Bella nods and smiles at all of them.

"I go by Rose," the girl says. Her hair is pulled into a French braid, drawing all attention to her gorgeous face. Bella admires her with unblinking eyes, feeling a slight twinge of envy at her beauty.

"New roommate, huh?" the guy called Emmett asks. He's as tall as Jacob, though burlier and much paler. "Did Char-Coal ask you if she can draw you naked, yet?"

Charlotte squeals in protest and Bella laughs.

"She did," Bella says, "but she didn't say anything about being naked."

"Actually," Charlotte says, throwing Emmett a playfully scornful look. "I was going to draw a side profile. You have an amazing jaw line, Bella."

Rose tilts her head and speculatively narrows her eyes at Bella. "The curve of her nose is lovely, too."

"Don't forget the other curves," Emmett says, nodding appreciatively. Bella looks at him with wide eyes and he winks at her.

"Stop being creepy, guys," Peter says, coming to Bella's rescue. She's surprised by how deep his voice is. "She's gonna think we're some Art Club cult, kidnapping young girls, stripping them naked, tying them down and forcing them to pose as we draw their every nook and cranny."

The silence that follows his statement only lasts for three seconds before everyone breaks out into laughter.

"Yeah, and _we're_ the creepy ones," Emmett says.

"Don't mind Peter," Charlotte says, evidently trying not to laugh at Bella's shocked expression. "His sense of humor is…"

"Fucking weird," Emmett says.

"It's an acquired taste!" Charlotte argues.

"Acquired by only you, short stuff."

As they banter back and forth, Bella stands awkwardly and tries to make sense of everything.

"I'm glad you showed," Jacob says, distracting her. He touches the cue to the floor and leans on it in an attractive manner. "I was worried you'd be, like, the ultimate introvert."

Bella shrugs and looks away from his dark gaze, folding her arms over her stomach. "I am an introvert, but that doesn't mean I don't want to meet new people, you know?"

Jacob nods before standing up straight and nodding towards the pool table. "Do you play?"

Bella shakes her head. "Not really."

"We like to commandeer this room before everyone settles in; then it gets crowded and you almost never find an available table."

For the next hour or so, Bella finds herself getting acquainted with the group. Jacob teaches her how to play pool, and she wonders how she got so lucky in making new friends on her first day here.

The same thing occurred on her first day of high school, though she hopes these friends last longer than her last.

* * *

><p>Later that night, exhausted and full from her first terribly greasy meal from the Dining Hall, Bella collapses onto her new bed. It's only a little less comfortable than the one at home.<p>

Charlotte plops down onto her own. "It feels good to be back." She reaches under her bed and pulls out her bright pink laptop. "Hey, are you on Facebook?"

Bella rubs her eyes. "Nope."

"Oh my gosh, you have to join. Don't you want to keep in touch with high school friends? Distant relatives?"

Bella doesn't know how to explain that she doesn't have either.

"Here," Charlotte says, coming over to Bella's bed. Bella sits up and the laptop is placed on her lap. "I feel the compulsive need to add anyone I ever meet on Facebook. Kind of like a catalogue of everyone I talk to. It's a weird habit, I know, but no one's ever ignored a request."

"Just giving you fair warning," Bella says, typing in her email address to sign up, "I may never use this thing."

Charlotte waves a hand dismissively. "Don't even worry about it."

Bella creates her account and Charlotte immediately sends her a request from her phone.

"You can also add the others," Charlotte instructs. "Jake, Peter, Emmett, Rose…"

Bella does as she's told with a shrug. Even if she never uses the website, it might be good for networking.

"Just search for anyone you want to add," Charlotte adds, getting up. "Do you want to use the bathroom first?"

"No, you go ahead," Bella says distractedly.

The second the bathroom door shuts, Bella clicks on the search bar.

She knows she shouldn't search the name. It would be a bad idea.

She had vowed to leave the past in Forks, including the memories.

But who is she kidding? How do you ever forget a person that affected you so much? How do you ignore that they ever existed when they are as much a part of you now as they were before?

_E_, she types the first letter.

Chances are, she's not going to find him.

_D_

He never seemed like the social networking type.

_W_

Then again, maybe he would try social networking.

_A_

Maybe he'd find it beneficial in college.

_R_

Besides, she's only checking because she's curious.

_D_

That's the only reason.

_Cullen_

Bella stares at the name in the search bar, not having seen it in print since she wrote it in her journal years ago.

_Edward Cullen._

It still has the same ring to it, the same cadence that boasts of someone who is bound to do amazing things in life.

Inhaling a deep breath, Bella slams her finger down on the enter key.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Gotta love Facebook stalking old crushes/friends/exes, huh? No? Okay...

YOU GUYS. I am so, so excited for the college years. I can barely contain myself. Also, I am predicting another 10 chapters or so, but this is just a guesstimate.

_Awakening _is a metallic mauve (with just a hint of copper) by China Glaze. It's a weird color.

See you soon!


	16. Bastille My Heart

**Chapter 16: Bastille My Heart**

Bella stares at the name in the search bar, not having seen it in print since she wrote it in her journal years ago.

_Edward Cullen._

It still has the same ring to it, the same cadence that boasts of someone who is bound to do amazing things in life.

Inhaling a deep breath, Bella slams her finger down on the enter key before she can change her mind.

She holds her breath.

Three results.

_Edward J.R. Cullen _is a middle aged man.

_Edward-o iGotMadSwag Collins _is definitely not the Edward she's looking for.

And then there's _Edward A. Cullen._

Edward A. Cullen, who has a cat as his profile picture.

Edward A. Cullen, who she has one mutual friend with.

Bella's heart begins to race as she clicks on his name, opening up his profile. He has everything protected from people that are not his friends, and she sees that their mutual friend is Charlotte.

How does Charlotte know Edward?

The bathroom door opens and the young woman in question steps out, dressed in pajama shorts and a tank top. Bella's eyes remain on the screen, open wide, her heart beating faster as the question bubbles up in her throat.

"Hey, Charlotte?" Bella says, her voice raspy. She clears her throat. "How do you know Edward Cullen?"

Charlotte frowns at her. "Edward who?"

"Cullen."

The frown doesn't come off Charlotte's face as she moves to sit next to Bella. Bella scoots over to make room.

"The name sounds familiar," Charlotte says. "I've never seen that cat before. Hang on, let me sign in to my account and we can stalk him."

Bella's mouth opens in protest. No, she doesn't want to stalk him. She shouldn't. Her throat constricts with words that never come.

"How do _you _know him?" Charlotte asks, typing.

Bella swallows. "He was my best friend. Our friendship didn't really end on good terms, and he graduated early and left before I could fix things…"

Bella falls quiet, only looking up when she realizes that Charlotte hasn't spoken for a while. Her roommate is staring at her with unblinking, inquisitive eyes.

"He really meant a lot to you, didn't he?" she asks quietly.

Bella laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. "Is it that obvious?"

Charlotte shrugs. "Your entire demeanor just changed. Look at you; you're folding in on yourself."

Bella looks down to find her shoulders hunched, her arms folded in front of her stomach.

Just like when she was fifteen and feeling vulnerable.

It is in this moment that Bella realizes that she _hasn't _moved on. She had convinced herself that she was leaving her old self behind, her old self and her old pain, but nothing could be further from the truth. Suddenly, it's like she's fifteen years old again.

Fifteen years old and still recovering from the destructive blow that can only come from someone you love so deeply, fully, and completely.

Charlotte silently types up Edward's name and opens up his profile.

As Edward's information pops up, Bella's eyes hungrily dart across the screen, too quickly to retain any information.

"Oh, _that _Edward," Charlotte says. "Yeah, I've only met him once. My Dad is his Dad's cousin's childhood friend or something. Our families went on a cruise together three years ago. Weird kid. Used a lot of big words. Told me something gross about shrimp. Turned me off shrimp for life, let me tell ya…"

Charlotte finally notices that Bella isn't listening. Her eyes are wide and alert, bright from the light of the computer screen.

Charlotte slowly returns the laptop to Bella's lap and climbs off the bed, leaving her alone with it.

Bella is only vaguely aware of the movement. She moves her face closer to the screen, as though that would somehow bring her closer to Edward, too.

Edward does not have much information on his profile. It is also apparent that he doesn't use it often. His latest update is from a week ago, but Bella finds herself scrolling through everything.

_**Edward A. Cullen:**__ Scientists have discovered that the chicken did, in fact, come before the egg. Although, I suppose this is old news?_

_**Edward A. Cullen: **__It is estimated that at any one time, 0.7% of the world's population is drunk. That 0.7% was about 85% of you last night, wasn't it? _

_**Edward A. Cullen: **__Ancient Egyptians shaved off their eyebrows to mourn the death of their cats. Well, I guess I know what I'm doing once Molly's metaphorical nine lives are done… Too morbid?_

His updates are interrupted by a friend's occasional wall post, and Bella reads each one greedily, desperate for information. Surprisingly, many of the posts are from girls.

_**Irina Darnokov: **__Edward! You need to party more often! Let loose! I'd love to see you drunk. Just sayin'. ;)_

_**Siobhan 'Bubblebutt' Simon: **__Dude, can you PLEASE help me with my psych paper? I'm dying here._

_**Tanya Denali: **__Good luck on your exam! I'm sure you'll do great, as always! :)_

_**Zafrina Soho: **__Did you hear what they're doing to the library? They're completely destroying the fifth floor to put up a gallery of some kind! WTFFFF!_

_**Carmen Reyes: **__OMG, I LOVE how you told off Prof. Gellar! The look on his face! You've got some balls! Haha. *cough* ;)_

Bella reads all the comments with a sinking heart, uncomfortable with the twinge of jealousy that passes through her. These people have had the privilege of knowing him for the past few years while Bella has been left with the broken pieces of a relationship she'd never be able to fix.

Bella sees what information Edward has added to his profile, but he hasn't listed the school he goes to, or whether or not he's in a relationship. The only thing provided is his gender.

Finally, Bella works up the courage to click on the one thing she was trying to resist.

Profile pictures.

The results are not what Bella was expecting.

He doesn't have any, save for the one image of the gray and black cat.

Bella's shoulders slump in disappointment. She hasn't learned anything new about Edward, really, and the school he goes to still remains a mystery.

Feeling dejected, Bella gets up and gives Charlotte back her laptop. In a daze, she goes through her bedtime routine and curls up into her new bed.

The room darkens, falling still and silent as Bella allows her thoughts to drift.

Stalking Edward's profile had been a bad idea. Then again, it was more of an impulse.

Nevertheless, it's left Bella aching with the reopening of old wounds. Wounds that she had stitched up before leaving home have suddenly been torn open for her to realize that they had never truly healed in the first place.

They still bleed as profusely as they had when they had first been slashed into her that terrible day in the rain.

She wishes she could rewind time half an hour back and never type Edward's name to begin with. Then maybe the flicker of hope that had been lit inside her wouldn't be dying right now.

The fact of the matter is that the ghost of Edward Cullen has not been left in Forks like she had thought.

He still haunts her, even at her new school, and she wonders if he will continue to haunt her for the rest of her life.

She doesn't know if she'd be able to handle it if he did.

* * *

><p>The next day, Bella's mood is only slightly better. She promises to never visit Edward's profile again and to work very hard, strictly focusing on starting college on the right foot, living her life while he lives his.<p>

However, at the moment, he is still a nagging thought in the back of her mind, even while Jacob gives her a tour of the campus.

Jacob points to a building across the sunny quad. "That's where most of the bigger lecture halls are. Most of those are humanities, natural science, and social science classes, though. Are you taking any?"

"Um, I think Intro to Cultural Anthropology is one," Bella says. "I have it tomorrow morning."

"Dude, that's an awesome class. I took it freshman year; you learn about some weird shit. It's fascinating."

"Good to know," Bella chuckles. She gazes up at the bright blue sky, the sun warming her face. It's warmer today than it was yesterday, and even more students are milling about on the grass.

Jacob nudges her and then nods towards a tree. "Wanna chill?"

Bella shrugs, only a tad uncomfortable when his hand lingers on her arm for a little too long.

Jacob sprawls out on the grass like a starfish, his body taking up almost all of the tree's shade. "Damn, this feels good."

Bella sits with her back against the tree, her knees pulled up against her chest. She hasn't been one hundred percent comfortable around the opposite sex for three years. Then again, not socializing with anyone other than her parents for so long has contributed to that fact.

"Enjoy the sun while it lasts," Jacob says, closing his eyes. "Since we're upstate, we get winter early and for a longer amount of time than NYC."

"How far is it, anyway?" Bella asks. "The city?"

"Well, if you've got a car, it's a good two hours. Most people that go there take the train, though. It's more reasonable. Anyway, no one actually ventures into NYC as often as you'd think. Off-campus shit is done in our pretty little town of Gordon. You know, since that's actually where we are."

Bella nods, promising herself to visit Gordon on the weekend. She had stared out the window of the bus on her way to school, in awe of the college town that didn't seem to be home to anyone over the age of thirty-five.

It was an exciting sight, if not just a little bit daunting.

Jacob hums in contention and Bella's eyes are drawn to him. She takes in his tall form, his height reminding her of someone she needs to be forgetting.

Jacob is bulky in a way that fails to impress Bella. His muscles curve in ways that are way too obvious, though it seems to suit him. For the second time since starting college, she has to force her thoughts from going in fanciful directions.

A relationship is not what she wants, nor is it something she's ready for.

The part that scares her is that she doesn't know if she will ever be.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Bella awakes with a start.<p>

She squints around the room, the sunlight streaming in from the window much too painful, and sees that Charlotte's bed is empty.

Charlotte, who said she had an 8am class.

Class.

Bella sits bolt upright, getting dizzy from the action. She reaches for her phone and sees that it's 9:45, only fifteen minutes before her first class.

"Shit."

Bella kicks the covers off and stumbles to the bathroom, mentally berating herself on the way there. How could she forget that today was the first day of classes? How could she have forgotten to set her alarm?

Deep down, Bella knows the reason.

Her last thoughts before drifting off to sleep had been curious about the whereabouts of a certain boy. They were the kind of thoughts you suppress throughout the day, but then fall victim to the second your head hits the pillow.

Silently cursing said boy, Bella furiously brushes her teeth before grabbing the closest clothing items and shoes, rummaging for her schedule in her desk drawer, and then grabbing her backpack.

Leaving the dorm with a little over five minutes to spare, Bella sprints across the quad. She sends silent thanks to Jacob for pointing out the buildings yesterday, as she doesn't need to look at the map to figure out where to go.

Luckily for her, Bella's first class is on the very first floor of the building. She briskly walks up and down the hallway, watching the numbers above the doors dwindle before she finds the right one.

Panting, Bella finds the right lecture hall with seconds to spare. She throws the door open and stumbles inside, pausing and feeling relieved that she's entered from the back. Her arrival is unnoticed by the students, most of which have their backs to her, facing the front of the room.

Her eyes scan the large room, taking in the vast number of students. She's never seen so many people in one room, and though the room is big, the sound of their chatter is loud and echoes off the walls.

The professor hasn't yet arrived, so she unhurriedly climbs down the steps to find a seat. The room is crowded, but there are many available spots.

She chooses to sit in the aisle to the far right, avoiding the crowded middle section and not wanting to walk all the way to the left section. She finds a seat at the very end of a row, two empty seats away from another girl.

With a sigh, Bella settles into the seat and takes out her notebook and pen as she catches her breath.

She looks around the room to take in the large room and all the students. Most are sitting quietly, some tapping away on laptops while others chat with friends or play with their phones.

After a few minutes, the professor walks in, a slim woman with a kind face and salt-and-pepper colored hair. The students immediately quiet down as she smiles at them, placing her bag on the desk in front of the room and then writing her name on the board.

"Hello," she says cheerfully. "Welcome to Anthropology 101! I'm Professor Bassler."

The woman's voice echoes and carries throughout the room as she looks up at the hundred-plus students with a friendly smile. Bella immediately likes her, and it doesn't take much for her to be focused for the rest of the class.

Professor Bassler hands out the syllabus and explains the basics- rules, responsibilities, textbooks, exams, attendance and grading policy. Bella reads the entire syllabus before the professor is done speaking about it.

After a moment, she lets her mind and her eyes wander.

Once again, her gaze wanders amongst the various students. There's so much diversity and so much difference between every single person- they're all interesting to look at.

She continues to watch them for a few moments, mind wandering from one possibility to another.

Then, her thoughts come to a screeching halt.

At first, her eyes merely skim over the achingly familiar head of hair just five rows below her.

A second later, it's like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs. Her heart feels like it's stuttering to a stop, only to pick up again at twice its speed.

That _color._

That color, the color of burning embers in a fireplace, so unique, so different…

Her body is rigid and all she can do is stare, eyes wide, heart hammering.

Bella doesn't realize that she's not breathing until her lungs scream in protest. She lets in a gasp of air, drawing the curious eyes of the students seated around her.

"You okay?" the guy sitting in front of her asks, brows furrowed. Bella merely nods and spares him a fleeting glance, her eyes more preoccupied with the person sitting far from her.

She can only see the back of his head, really. In fact, she doesn't even know if it's really him.

The hair is shorter from the back than she remembers, but the shoulders are exactly the same.

Broad, but hunched just slightly…

Bella bites her lip and doesn't pull her eyes away, afraid that if she looks away, even for one second, he'll disappear.

_What if it's not him?_ she questions internally.

The very thought sends a pang through her, so she pushes it aside and takes a more optimistic approach.

That doesn't last too long.

_It's him._

_It has to be him._

_Or what if it's a relative with the same hair?_

_Is that possible?_

_No one in his family had hair that color, not even his mother or sister._

_Still, he had to get it from somewhere._

_Must be a relative._

She starts fidgeting and glancing at her phone to check the time, anxious for class to be over.

Realizing that she has forty-five minutes left to suffer, she huffs in impatience and continues to stare intensely at the bronze head of hair.

Time seems to crawl by.

He moves, but only briefly and subtly.

His back straightens and then hunches again a few minutes later.

He stretches his neck to one side, and then the other, probably getting rid of kinks.

He rolls his shoulders.

When he runs a hand through his hair and Bella gets a glimpse of the fingers she knows so well, she inhales sharply.

It's him.

Bella is positive now.

She _knows_ him, remembers him far too well to be wrong.

All of a sudden, there's a flurry of moment as students begin to stand up. Bella's is startled, not having realized that class is over.

For a moment, she sits rigid in her seat, surprised.

Then, she remembers why she's been so out of it.

_GO TO HIM._

Those are the only words ringing through her head, loud and crystal clear like a bell.

She scrambles to her feet and grabs her things, not even bothering to shove them into her bag before she starts pushing herself through the other students.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry. Ow. Sorry."

She's a mess as she stumbles down the steps in the lecture hall, apologizing for stepping on feet and bumping shoulders with others.

Her eyes are wide, her heartbeat frantic as she cranes her neck through the rush of students trying to leave.

She sees him once, just once, and very briefly.

She seems him from the side, sees him push his glasses up, sees him frown at something before turning his back and walking towards the exit. She has a fleeting thought about his hair, how it's so much shorter, so much better than it used to be.

"Edward!" she says frantically, and people part to let her pass.

By the time she gets to the bottom of the hall, towards the exit, she's panting and starting to sweat.

Her eyes search, but find nothing.

He's gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Can't you just feel the inevitable coming closer? Feels all tingly, doesn't it?

_Bastille My Heart _is a sexy blood red by OPI.

See you next week!


	17. Teal We Meet Again

**A/N:** Have I ever mentioned how much I love and adore you guys with every fiber of my being? No? I really, really, REALLY do. All of your comments and your excitement for these chapters make me feel all warm and fuzzy and just... gah! You make telling this story worthwhile.

This chapter took some some hard work and a couple rewrites, and I could NOT have done it without the feedback of **Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove.** A good chunk of the credit for any awesomeness you may read should go to them. Really.

See you at the bottom. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Teal We Meet Again<strong>

She feels herself crumbling.

With every step that she takes out of the lecture hall, and further away from him, Bella feels like the walls she's worked so hard to build over the past three years are beginning to deteriorate. She can practically hear the cracks forming in the concrete, hear them replacing the sound of her heartbeat, loud and raw and overwhelming.

As she steps out onto the cheerful bustling of the sunny quad, it is as though none of it matters anymore. College, her new friends, her new life, the supposedly new Bella Swan… All of that has taken a backseat to the fact that he's _here_.

Edward Cullen is here.

That knowledge alone is enough to unravel the seams of her careful composure. It's like the past three years never happened and it's the day after the fight in the rain and she's watching him drive away. She feels just as desperate to get in touch with him, just as frustrated by the distance, physical and metaphorical, between them.

Bella walks back to the dorms in an almost zombie-like state, feeling like she has to put extra effort into every movement. Seeing him feels like a dream all of a sudden, like a dream so close to reality that she's confused the two.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

In her room, Bella drops her backpack to the floor and walks to the window. As usual, the vast expanse of grass is littered with people taking advantage of the sun. Bella's eyes dart quickly among them, seeking out that head of hair again.

Anything that shines red in the sun catches her eye, though it's never what she wants it to be.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Bella puts her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.

This is not good. This should not be happening. He shouldn't be here, here in her new home. Here, in her new _life_, where she doesn't want to be reminded of past mistakes that tore her apart.

Suddenly, she hates him.

And just as suddenly, she doesn't.

The truth is, she doesn't know _what _to feel. Shouldn't she be happy that she's found him? Shouldn't she be grasping at straws to get in touch with him, to finally, after three long years, explain what happened that night at the bowling alley?

Bella lifts her head and mindlessly stares at an odd drawing stuck to the wall next to Charlotte's bed.

Yes, she _should _be happy that she's found him.

After all, what is this situation if not a second chance? A second chance to fix things? A chance for him to hear her out years later, when the emotions coursing through him aren't as intense as they were that day in the rain?

This is her chance to really fix it.

Bella has not believed in things such as fate in a long time, not since mentally training herself to only focus on reality.

However, nothing else could possibly explain this. A big, giant coincidence would not explain how, out of all the top universities in the world, Edward would be at Mount Gordon.

Not just at the Mount, but in Bella's class.

How can such a tremendous event be explained by anything other than the fact that it was _supposed _to happen?

Bella lets out a laugh of disbelief, though it sounds more like a gasp.

This is it.

She knows what she has to do.

She's going to find him, and when she finds him, she's going to explain. She's going to explain and apologize and she's going to _make him listen._

Even if he still doesn't want to associate himself with her afterwards, she'll do okay.

She'll do okay because he will finally know the truth.

He will know the truth, she will have done her part, and she will have gotten what she's been thirsting for ever since he left.

Closure.

* * *

><p>Bella is on edge for the next few days, her eyes seeking a familiar face everywhere she goes. As big as the campus is, she doubts she'd run into him by accident. However, that doesn't stop her from seeking him out, and that doesn't stop the plethora of questions that run through her mind.<p>

_Does he live on or off campus? What's he majoring in? He's a senior now, right? What other classes is he taking? Other than school, what has he been up to these past few years? Is he working? Does he have a girlfriend? Did he **ever** get a girlfriend? How's his family, how's Maggie? _

_Does he think about me as much as I think about him?_

Bella hopes to get answers to all of these questions, though she knows it may have to wait until the next time she has her Anthropology class. Unfortunately, since the first day of classes was a Wednesday, she'll have to wait until Monday before she sees him again.

Five days suddenly seems much longer than three years.

On Friday, Bella visits Charlotte in one of the campus' art studios.

The room is large, lit by fluorescents that cause the white floors and walls to be blindingly bright. Charlotte stands in front of an easel, using a kitchen sponge to paint an abstract design in various shades of green.

"How can you spend all day in here?" Bella asks, pulling a stool closer to her roommate. "Doesn't it hurt your eyes?"

Charlotte shrugs, dabbing the neon green-dipped sponge against the canvas. "I think it's supposed to bring emphasis to the colors in the room."

"What colors?"

"The colors of the tools, silly," Charlotte says, nodding to the shelves stacked with paints, brushes, oil pastels, and other utensils that Bella wouldn't know what to do with. "Besides, one of the reasons I use this room is because everyone hates it."

"Nonconformist?"

"Nah, I just like that it's empty."

The girls are silent for a moment and Bella watches in fascination as Charlotte works her magic with the green paints.

When she starts using a shade of green that reminds her of damp leaves and a certain someone's eyes, Bella's mind begins to drift. However, it's not long before Charlotte's voice brings her back.

"So," Charlotte says casually. "I see you're finally getting accustomed to college life."

Bella nods and shrugs one shoulder. "I guess. Is it noticeable?"

"Maybe only to me. I'm perceptive like that."

"I don't feel any different than I did when I got here," Bella says. _Aside from the fact that I saw the first boy I ever loved after three years and he sent my emotions into a tailspin. _"Maybe I'm a tad more comfortable."

"You're happier," Charlotte states matter-of-factly. "And I'd love for you tell me the _real_ reason why," she adds with a smirk.

Bella stares at her warily, but Charlotte doesn't meet her gaze. She continues with her project, sticking her tongue out in concentration.

"You can let me know if I'm being nosy," Charlotte adds after Bella stays silent.

Bella stares at her new friend and thinks about how nice it would be to talk to someone about what happened with Edward. Her story, only a painful memory over the past few years, is suddenly taking shape in the form of words.

Even though she's only known Charlotte for less than a week, she finds that she can trust her. It's not like her story is a huge secret.

"You know that guy we Facebook-stalked?" Bella begins, and she's suddenly bursting with the need to talk about it. The pent up emotions have not treated her well.

"Yeah." Charlotte gives Bella her full attention, pulling over a nearby stool and sitting on it.

"I saw him in class on Wednesday."

Charlotte's blue eyes widen. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Positive."

For the next hour, Bella talks and Charlotte listens. She starts from the very beginning, from her first day seeing him in the window seat to the day in the rain when her world fell apart.

She tells her about Ben, about how he made her feel and how that paled in comparison to how she felt around Edward. She tells her about how her daydreams and expectations of her relationship with Ben had ruined what could have been an amazing relationship with Edward.

She tells her about how much she'd hurt Edward with her selfishness, and how she'd realized it much too late. She tells her about how the day she realized she was in love with him was the day she found out he was gone for good.

By the time Bella's trip down memory lane is over, she's cried twice. Talking about it after so long has added salt to the wounds and brought out all of the painful emotions she first suffered through when she was fifteen.

"Wow," Charlotte says in quiet awe, handing Bella another Kleenex. "I didn't know it was that… dramatic."

Bella blows her nose. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Majorly. So… what are you gonna do when you see him in class on Monday?"

"I'm gonna corner him,"Bella says, sniffing and dabbing at the corners of her eyes. "I'm going to get there early so I can see when he comes in. If he takes school as seriously as he did three years ago, he'll be there really early. Then I'm going to sit by him, but not somewhere he can see me. After class, I'm going to follow him out and then… I don't know, talk to him."

Charlotte nods, eyes still wide. "Do you think he'll hear you out?"

"He has to," Bella says, her voice suddenly fierce. "He _has _to. I'll go crazy if he doesn't. I don't care if he believes me or not, I just need to tell him what happened that night. He needs to know."

Charlotte bites her lip and then opens her mouth to speak, but then shuts it again.

"What is it?" Bella asks. "Come on, I just spilled my heart out; you can pretty much ask me anything."

"Do you think he still likes you?" Charlotte asks tentatively.

Bella has to think about it for a lot longer than she'd expect.

Finally, she shakes her head.

"I don't see why he would."

* * *

><p>Although Charlotte and her new friends wanted to take her out and about in Gordon for the weekend, Bella decides to use the alone time to familiarize herself with the rest of the campus. She checks out the school's clubs and signs herself up for several, including a book club, the Young Writer's Club, and a community service club. She doesn't want to start college as a social recluse, remembering how that hadn't worked for her in high school.<p>

On Saturday morning, Bella does the one thing she'd been dying to do since arriving.

She visits the library.

Mount Gordon's library is seven floors of Bella's heaven on earth. Upon entering, there is a café area, followed by a set of doors that lead onto a first floor reading lounge.

Taking her time, Bella roams each and every floor. She observes her surroundings, her shoes lightly tapping against the marble floors. The library smells like wood, pine, and old newspapers, a smell so heavenly that Bella finds herself inhaling it like a drug addict.

She can't quite get the smile off her face as she wanders from floor to floor, making mental notes of where to sit and read, write, or do homework when she needs to.

She saves the books for last.

Majority of the books in the library are not fictional, a fact that Bella expected but was nevertheless disappointed by.

Still, she takes advantage of the serenity the quiet library brings her by wandering all the shelves on every floor, mindlessly browsing for titles that catch her interest.

Bella doesn't remember if she's on the fourth or fifth floor when she realizes that her legs are tired of walking. She's sure she's spent almost an hour just meandering around the bookshelves without taking anything out.

Suddenly, she's starving. Instead of walking slowly with purposeless steps, she speeds up and tries to find her way out of the maze of bookshelves.

That's why she almost misses him.

That's why he starts off as just a blur in her periphery.

Something makes her stop.

Bella halts her steps, her body going rigid. She listens, although she doesn't know what she's listening for.

It takes her brain a moment to realize that she's just passed by something vaguely familiar in between a row of shelves, something she barely noticed in her periphery. She feels an odd tension in the air, the presence of an unseen force.

_You're being neurotic, _she tells herself. _Keep walking._

But she can't walk away. It's like she's being pulled in the opposite direction, her mind telling her to move forward while her feet keep pushing her back.

Slowly, and with a heart that feels as though it's desperately trying to escape the suddenly tight confines of her chest, Bella turns around.

She doesn't know if she wants to be right or wrong about who she thinks she saw.

A second later, she's peeking around the corner of the row that she passed.

Her heart stops.

Her breathing halts.

She hides.

Like a frightened cat, she yanks her head away and presses her back against the side of the bookshelf, the wood uncomfortable against her spine.

_Oh my god, it's him._

_It's him, and he's not even five feet away._

All of Bella's plans about what she'd say to Edward once she saw him again go out the window. She wasn't expecting to run into him this randomly, and she doesn't have a plan.

But she can't walk away now.

She _can't, _as though her paralyzed legs would even give her a choice in the matter.

Bella tiptoes into the aisle of books parallel to him and peeks in through the gap between the books on the shelf.

Edward has his back to her. It's clear that it's him, not just by his hair, but by the significant way he stands.

Crooked, like a palm tree.

She'd always loved that about him.

He holds a book in his right hand, reading something on the back cover while his left hand hangs limply at his side. He wears an untucked gray dress shirt and black trousers, the clothes comfortably hugging his broad shoulders and long, lean legs.

She's never seen him in clothes that fit so perfectly. Gone are the baggy sweatshirts and jeans of his high school years.

Standing before her is no high schooler.

Standing before her is a man.

Suddenly, Edward moves. His back stiffens and he lifts his head, staring at the books in front of him. He turns his head a little to the left, as though he senses something, and then to the right.

After a moment of holding absolutely still, he shudders and shakes his head, as though ridding himself of a thought. He shifts, turning to the side and leaning his shoulder against the shelf, looking down at his book while inadvertently offering Bella a view of him from the side.

He doesn't wear his glasses, so everything about his side profile stands out. The sharp angle of his jaw, covered in the scruffy facial hair he didn't have much of in high school. The bridge of his nose, straight like his Dad's. The soft pout of his lips, pressed together in silent disapproval.

Bella's observation only takes a total of fifteen seconds, but it's long enough for her to decide that she can't hide and she can't run away. She simply must speak to him.

Taking a deep breath, heart hammering violently, stomach fluttering, hands shaking, she tentatively steps out of her row and directly into his line of vision.

And just like her first day of high school, she waits for him to notice.

It doesn't take long.

Edward's eyes look up right away, but his head follows slowly. He lifts it almost lazily, like a lion waking up from a nap, and stares at her.

The second his eyes meet hers, it's like the world around them ceases to exist. The bookshelves, the carpet, the yellow lighting, the smell of old paper and wood and pine... it all vanishes.

His eyes, so powerfully vibrant without the barrier of his glasses, pin her to the ground and tighten her throat like a cold hand pressing into her skin.

Before she knows it, she's taking a subconscious step towards him. She can't believe he still has this effect on her, how he can pull her into his orbit without even trying.

Edward blinks, the book in his hand falling to the ground in his surprise. It thumps too loudly in the still of the silence, causing Bella to jump.

It's so quiet for a moment that Bella thinks they'd be able to hear her heartbeat three floors down, the deafening _ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump_ loud enough to vibrate walls and shatter windows.

The waves of nervous energy that radiate off of her are tangible, and she wouldn't be surprised if he could feel them, too.

"Hi," she finally manages to say. Her voice trembles and is much too hoarse; she hates how timid it makes her sound.

Edward swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, and inspects her from head to toe, as though searching for details to determine if it's really her and not some doppelganger.

She notices something unfamiliar in his eyes. It's still him, there's no doubt about that, but there's something different. His scrutinizing gaze lingers on certain areas of her body, a look that makes the blood rush to her face.

"I..." Edward begins to speak, but his voice is raspy. He clears his throat and licks his lips, an almost confused expression crossing his face. "What… I mean…" He sighs in frustration and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

"Hi," he finally says, opening his overly expressive eyes.

They stare at each other, and Bella wonders what the look on his face means.

It's almost like he's sad to see her.

Edward's stare makes her feel fifteen again, reminding her of her mistakes. Uncomfortable, she wraps her arms around herself and looks away.

"This is weird, huh?" she says nervously. Her eyes are wet, though not enough for tears to fall. She wants to run away from him and throw herself into his arms at the same time.

"Undoubtedly," Edward says seriously. His mouth twitches almost imperceptibly, though it's as though it was the beginning of a grimace rather than a smile.

"I saw you in class," Bella says quietly. "In Anthro."

Edward raises his brows. "Really?" His voice is deeper than she remembers. It gives her goosebumps.

Bella nods. "I tried catching up with you afterwards, but I got lost in the crowd…"

"What are the chances?" he asks, shaking his head. He manages a tiny smile, though it doesn't last very long. He nervously bends the fingers of his left hand with his right and then habitually reaches up to push his glasses up, even though he doesn't wear any.

"No glasses anymore?" Bella asks.

"Contacts," he explains. "I generally wear them to work. Well, I'm doing an internship, which I consider to be work since it's paid, but..." He trails off, and Bella smiles at the fact that he is almost as awkward she remembers.

"That would explain the… professional garb," she says, gesturing at his dress shirt.

Edward looks down at himself and nods, running a hand through his hair. Bella can't help but notice that, even though he's still just a tad awkward, there's an air of confidence about him. She can't rip her eyes away.

As his eyes briefly wander over her again, she wonders if he notices any changes in her.

"Speaking of work," Edward says quietly, glancing at his watch before retrieving the book from the floor. "I'm running late."

Bella tries not to let the disappointment show on her face. "Oh. Okay."

Edward watches her, biting his lip.

Bella stares back and the tension between them is much too painful.

This is not how she imagined their reunion would go.

"I'm sorry," Edward says, rubbing the back of his neck. He eyes her warily, like she's a wild animal getting ready to pounce. "I know I'm not particularly verbose… I just wasn't expecting this."

"Me neither," Bella whispers, but she gets the sense they're discussing two totally different things.

There's a sudden accusation in his eyes, though it disappears quicker than she can interpret it.

"Listen," Bella says, gathering up the remnants of her shattered confidence. "I think we should talk. I mean, not now, since you're going to work, but… eventually. Soon. If that's okay… with you…"

Edward looks down at his feet, brows furrowed, but when he looks up again his face is impassive.

"We have quite a bit of catching up to do, don't we?" he says quietly. His face remains blank, but his eyes are anything but.

Bella nods. "Do you think we could meet up somewhere? Tomorrow, or-"

"Tomorrow is fine," he says. "Tomorrow morning, preferably. Is the café on the first floor all right?"

"That's perfect," Bella says a little too enthusiastically. "What time?"

Edward shrugs casually, his expression indifferent. "Whatever works."

"10?"

"Okay."

Bella is surprised by his nonchalance. What had she been expecting, though? Anger? Excitement? Joy? All of that may have been better than the indifference he displays.

But despite the outer façade of indifference, his gaze burns a hole into her, the green of his eyes darkened with emotion he won't allow himself to express.

Edward looks down at the book in his hand. "Anyway, I guess I should check this out and hurry to work. Are you looking for something?"

"Oh no, I was just wandering around," Bella says. "This is my first time in the library, actually. I'm exhausted; this place is bigger than it looks."

Edward picks up a backpack she hadn't noticed sitting at his feet and jerks his head towards the outside of their row. "I'll walk you out?"

Bella falls into step beside him, though she respects his personal space and restrains herself from walking too close.

Still, she is close enough to find that he still smells the same, with only a slight difference. He still smells of rain and orchard leaves and masculinity, but there's the sharp scent of something else, something pleasant. Deodorant? Or is it cologne?

As they walk down the three sets of stairs, Bella tries to think of something to say.

However, he beats her to it.

"You weren't here last year," Edward says. It's not a question, but a statement laced with accusation. He tries to hide it with casualness, but it doesn't work.

"I transferred," Bella explains. She doesn't feel like giving details.

Once Edward gets his book checked out, they walk out into the sun.

He turns to face her outside the library, the backpack slung over his shoulder the only thing that makes him resemble a college student.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks, sounding as though he's unsure of her answer.

"10 o'clock on the dot, library café."

Edward stares at her and then lets out a short, humorless laugh. He shakes his head at her, as though he can't believe his eyes.

"Wow," he says quietly.

"Wow, indeed," Bells says uncertainly. She doesn't know what else to say, especially with how awkward it is between them.

She finds herself aching for the old times, the times when there was nothing between them except easy banter and constant laughter.

"Tomorrow, then," Edward says, slowly backing away from her.

"Tomorrow," Bella agrees, managing a smile.

When he speaks, still backing away from her, his serious tone is audible over the sudden wind.

"I have a lot to say to you, Bella Swan."

With that, he turns and walks away without sparing her another glance.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Your thoughts. I need them. I bet that wasn't what you were expecting. Or was it? Talk to me.

_Teal We Meet Again_ is a goooorgeous dark teal by OPI that I must own immediately.

Until next time...


	18. Fear or Desire

**A/N:** Hi. :)

**Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove** are amazing. These ladies know how to keep my writing in line.

This is a lengthy one. They've got miles of ground to cover.

I hope you missed EPOV, cause I sure did. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Fear or Desire<strong>

Edward tightens his grip on the warming glass in his hand and stares into the amber liquid inside of it. Even though he had known it wasn't going to help the torrent of emotions coursing through him, he had been desperate enough to give the alcohol a shot.

However, the ache inside of him only intensified, and that left him sitting slouched at his kitchen table, staring at the mostly full glass.

Hearing a soft purr, Edward looks down to see his cat, Molly, weaving between his feet.

"Come here, you," he says, reaching down and lifting her up.

He places her on his lap and begins to stroke her fur, taking a deep breath through his nose and closing his eyes.

After a few minutes, he sighs in frustration.

"Stroking your fur is supposed to stimulate my dopaminergic pathways and reduce stress," he admonishes. "Why isn't it working?"

Molly meows in protest and leaps off his lap, bounding towards the living room.

"Sorry," he calls after her. "It's not your fault."

Edward rubs his eyes under his glasses and then bends forward to rest his forehead at the edge of the wooden table. It presses uncomfortably into his skin, but it's a good distraction from everything else.

'Everything else', a.k.a Bella Swan.

It had felt like a dream in the beginning.

He had stopped by the library on campus to find a book to write his Psychopathology paper on, and it was supposed to be a quick trip.

Edward recalls how he had initially felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, an eerie feeling crawling across his skin. The eerie feeling had quickly morphed into a powerful, electric one, like static emanating from an unseen force. The sense that he was being watched was strong, but he brushed it off. After all, there had been rumors that the fourth floor of the library was haunted, not that he cared or believed in them.

So when Bella Swan stepped out of the shadows and right into his line of vision, he truly believed he was seeing a ghost.

A ghost of his past.

Her presence had drained the blood from his face, his pale skin going impossibly paler. His heartbeat slowed to a stutter before picking up again, double the speed of its usual rhythm.

Edward had half expected her to disappear, or maybe vanish into a puff of smoke.

But she didn't.

She was there and she was beautiful and the mere sight of her was slowly and painfully ripping out every single stitch he had haphazardly used to mend his heart.

God, did she look scared. She was paler than he remembered, but her eyes were just as wide and her lips were just as pink. Her button nose was just as cute, her hair just as lovely, her gaze just as warm on his skin.

She was taller and _curvier_, the sight of her filled-out hips and chest all but grabbing him by the crotch and reigniting an unwanted fire.

She had stolen the words from him, and when he tried to speak he ended up sounding like a choking mule.

Bella had mentioned how '_weird'_ it was that they'd run into each other, and he couldn't help but think that '_weird'_ was not the right word. '_Disquieting'_ was more appropriate.

'_Unfortunate'_ was another word that had run through his head.

Making small talk with Bella had been extremely uncomfortable, as he didn't know what to say to the girl who crushed his heart. She looked just as uneasy as him, yet there she stood, desperately trying to strike up a conversation.

Yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from her and he couldn't tell her what he really wanted: for her to go away and stop digging up all of the emotions he had worked so hard to bury.

The desire to run away from her was strong, and Edward was glad for the legitimate excuse of being late for work.

Nevertheless, Bella was an open book, and he could tell she was close to breaking from the tension.

He couldn't leave her in that state, even if he wanted to.

And boy, did he want to.

So he apologized for his stilted end of the conversation, and when she suggested that they meet up and talk, he couldn't turn her down.

He could tell by how she enunciated her words and avoided his gaze that asking him that much had been extremely difficult for her.

As much as he didn't want to spend another minute alone with her, something inside of him couldn't turn her down.

He was compelled to agree, even though he had spent three years trying to convince himself that he hated her.

However, despite his polite acquiescence, Edward still feels a twinge of resentment.

He resents the fact that she's here, at _his_ school, in _his _sanctuary, making him feel sixteen again.

He resents that she is still so gorgeous, that the sight of her still makes him weak in the knees and heavy in the chest.

He resents that she still smelled like pomegranates, so sweet and feminine that all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her, bury his nose in her hair and lose himself.

But what he resents most of all is that she jumped back into his life and forced him to realize that, while he had put states in between them, she had never truly left his heart.

* * *

><p>Edward finds it nearly impossible to get out of the bed on Sunday morning.<p>

The slight weight of Molly on his chest is nothing compared to the suffocated feeling he gets when he thinks about having to see Bella again. He knows that seeing her again is the same thing as voluntarily plunging a knife into his chest.

However, he knows he has to go through with this, and not just because he told her he'd be there.

He has to go through with this because he meant it when he said he had a lot to say to her.

Maybe if he gets the emotions of the past few years off his chest, he can officially move on.

Glancing at the clock, he sees that it's almost 9 o'clock. He has a little over an hour before meeting Bella, and he takes his time getting ready since the drive to campus only takes fifteen minutes.

Once he's showered, he stands in front of his closet in a towel and scours it for something to wear.

After a moment, he rolls his eyes at himself. This isn't a date. He doesn't even want to see her. Why does he suddenly feel the need to make himself look a little more than presentable?

Edward grabs a pair of jeans and a navy blue v-neck t-shirt before throwing on his glasses and running a hand through his hair.

Looking in the mirror, he wonders when he's going to stop looking so morose. It's like his face has permanently frozen itself into an expression of despondency.

Walking into the kitchen, Edward sees his roommate, Eleazar, sprawled across the couch in front of the TV.

"You're up unusually early," Edward comments sullenly.

"So are you," Eleazar says. He's a grad student at the Mount, only a few years older than Edward. He's just as tall, though with creamy brown skin and dark, curly hair.

"Do we have apple juice?" Edward asks, opening the fridge.

"Towards the back."

Edward pulls out the container of apple juice and holds it up for observation under the light.

"It's not cloudy," Eleazar says without pulling his eyes away from the screen.

Edward sighs and grabs a glass from the cabinet. "It'll have to do."

Eleazar turns around to look at him. "What is your obsession with cloudy apple juice, anyway?"

"It's not an obsession," Edward corrects. "It's a preference. Cloudy apple juice has double the antioxidants of clear apple juice so it protects against heart disease and lung cancer."

Eleazar turns to face the TV again. "Whatever, man. You going to campus today?"

"Yup."

Edward forces himself to swallow some toast and jam, even though his stomach twists in protest. He's never felt this anxious, not even before a major exam.

Eleazar gets up and shuffles into the kitchen, but he freezes in his steps when he sees Edward.

"Damn," he says. "You look like you're about to barf."

Edward shrugs. "It's probable."

"Everything good?"

"Not really."

With the knowing gaze of a good friend, Eleazar lets it drop.

* * *

><p>By the time Edward arrives on campus and makes the long walk to the library, his somber expression has hardened into one of fierce determination.<p>

Taking a deep breath before walking inside, he makes sure that all of his mental and emotional walls are up and strong. If he's going to be sitting across from Bella and discussing the past, he needs to do so using the strength of his brain and not the weakness of his heart.

Edward is greeted by a cool blast of air conditioning as he enters the library's café. His eyes scan the room, please to see that it's fairly empty. Most of the campus' population would be sleeping in at this time.

Bella isn't here yet.

Edward walks over to the coffee dispensers and grabs a medium-sized cup, pouring himself the strongest kind. He somehow knows that he's going to need it.

After he pays, he turns to see Bella fidgeting in the doorway.

She looks around, brows furrowed anxiously, and bites her lip. She doesn't notice him at first, and he takes the moment to observe her.

He almost hates her for being so beautiful. She'd always been the loveliest, but now she's lovely in an entirely different way. Her beauty reminds him of flowers right before they wither; vibrant, but frayed at the edges. At the peak of their maturity, but somehow able to retain their youth and liveliness.

The innocence and naivety that used to be so obvious on her face when she was fifteen has been replaced by an experienced awareness that almost comes off as confidence.

Almost.

She doesn't dress like she used to, either. Gone are the knee high socks and colorful t-shirts. Instead, she's settled on a dusty pink, flowy blouse and light blue denim shorts.

Edward's never seen her show so much leg and skin, and he briefly wonders, _Her mother let her leave the house in those?, _before remembering that she doesn't' have that problem anymore. Not that he minds, of course. In fact, his eyes roam over her legs hungrily, taking advantage of the few precious seconds he can freely do so.

So when Bella meets his gaze, it catches him off guard and he startles, immediately feeling guilty. Bella smiles tentatively, just the corner of her mouth tilting up, and toys with the hem of her blouse.

Edward smiles back the best he can, though his mouth feels stiff, and Bella walks towards him.

"Hi," she says quietly, still fidgeting with her shirt.

"Hi."

She's jittery; he can tell. He could always tell.

Edward suddenly yearns to reach out and comfort her like he used to, but he curls his hands into fists at his sides and remains stoic in her presence.

Bella bites her lip and sucks in a breath, holding it for a second. "I'm gonna get something to drink, I guess," she says on the exhale.

Edward nods. "I'll get us a table. Um, not that that'll be exceptionally difficult."

"Okay."

Edward sighs. The awkwardness is absolute torture, slow and painful, and he doesn't fully understand why he subjects himself to it.

_It'll all be over soon, _he comforts himself as he scans the room for a table. _Just take this opportunity to relieve yourself of all the emotional baggage, and you'll be fine for the rest of your existence._

Edward chooses a table in a far corner of the café, sits down, and observes her.

He observes her, because watching anything else is impossible.

Bella moves with a slight awkwardness, and he only notices it because he remembers her so well. There used to be a spring in her step, but now she moves as though she's avoiding creaking floorboards.

He watches her order, pay, and then duck to the side to wait for her order. Her gaze moves in his direction and Edward quickly looks away and out the window.

When Bella begins to walk towards him, strawberry frappuccino in hand, he braces himself and rips his eyes away from her lean legs.

Her scent wafts over him as she takes the seat across the table. Somehow, it penetrates Edward's internal walls and throws him off for a second. He notices that her nails are painted a dull gray, a stark contrast to the bright colors she used to wear.

Bella takes a sip of her pink drink. It matches her shirt and her lips. Her lips, which she wraps around the straw in a way that's entirely too enticing.

"So," Edward says, clearing his throat and glancing away from her mouth. "Here we are."

"Here we are," Bella reiterates.

Edward taps his fingers against the warm cardboard of his coffee cup and stares at the white lid. Maybe if he doesn't look at her the entire time, this whole thing would be easier.

"Edward," Bella says. He lifts his eyes and looks at her over the top of his glasses. She looks so sad, and it tugs at his chest. "I know this is really awkward."

"Understatement." His is colder than he intends, and he feels a twinge of guilt that he ignores.

"There is just something you really need to know," Bella continues as though she hasn't heard him. Apparently, it's easier for her to look him in the eye than it is for him to look at her. "I just want to cut to the chase."

"I'm listening." Edward eyes her warily, completely on his guard.

Bella takes a deep breath and looks straight at him. Her eyes are big, brown pools of sincerity. They paralyze him.

"That night at the bowling alley," Bella says. "I wasn't using you to make Ben jealous."

Edward feels his stomach plummet as disappointment floods through him. He sits back in his seat and stares at her in disbelief that borders on anger.

"That… That'swhat you wanted to say to me?" he asks incredulously.

"No, listen-"

"I'm over it, Bella."

"Edward, please…"

"This is entirely unnecessary-"

"Listen to me!" Bella's voice is sharp and it surprises him. She might as well have reached across the table and slapped him to get his attention.

Edward snaps his mouth shut and waits.

"That day," Bella says quietly, holding his gaze. "You wouldn't listen to me. You yelled at me and then drove away and I never saw you again."

"I really don't want to talk about this, Bella," Edward says, his entire body stiff. He's long since put that day behind him, and he can't help but feel annoyed that she's bringing it up.

"I don't care," Bella snaps. "You don't even have to talk. Just _listen_. I've been carrying the truth with me for the past three years, and I'm sick of it. Do you know how it felt knowing that you were probably out there, hating me for a reason that wasn't valid?"

Edward stares at her silently, at her open, vulnerable expression and pleading eyes. He notices a hint of anger in them, a fire that crackles with the desire to make him understand.

For the first time in years, he begins to doubt his decision to cut her out of his life.

Edward sips his coffee, cringing slightly when it burns his tongue. The twinge of pain feels like a reprimand. _Hold your tongue and listen to her._

So he does.

Once Bella realizes that she has his attention, she looks down and takes a deep breath through her nose.

"Okay," she says. "So, about Ben." Edward grimaces briefly at the name, but Bella doesn't notice. "When I asked you to go to the bowling alley with me, I wasn't asking because Ben would be there. In fact, I honestly didn't even know he would be there."

"I remember you saying that," Edward says slowly.

"Yes, but you didn't believe me. You just drove off."

Edward clenches his jaw, unable to think of a response.

She's right.

"I asked you to go with me because I genuinely liked you… a lot," Bella says quietly. She begins to talk in a rush, the words tumbling out quickly and her body relaxing as she is relieved of the weight of them. "When I saw Ben there, I freaked out and… I guess it confused me. I was still recovering from the breakup, and then seeing him there, so happy with another girl so soon after it happened just messed me up. Having you there made it easier, but it was still hard to be myself with him so close to us. I was a confused mess inside, and I never meant to hurt you. I wasn't using you, Edward, and you weren't some rebound. You have to believe that."

She looks into his eyes as she says it, and he cannot find a reason to doubt her.

But even though he believes her, even though the truth of her words is written all over her face, he still feels the same pain.

He still feels the remnants of that old hurt, a dull ache he's only aware of when he thinks about it.

Bella sighs, but doesn't look away from him. "You were _always _my first choice. The part that sucks is that I chose you at the wrong time. I chose you when I was hurting and confused and vulnerable, and that wasn't fair to you. Three years ago, you asked me not to apologize, but I have to. I'm sorry, Edward."

Edward allows her words to sink in, and when he doesn't respond for a moment, Bella begins to nervously swirl her straw into her drink.

"You don't have to believe me," she says, staring down into the pink liquid. "You just needed to know what my intentions were. I don't want you to go on for the rest of your life hating me for something that was really just a misunderstanding."

Edward guiltily drags both hands through his hair, interlacing his fingers at the top of his head. When he drops his hands, his bronze locks are extra chaotic. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs until they're fit to explode.

"Okay," he says on the exhale.

Bella frowns at him. "'Okay'?"

"I believe you," he says with a shrug.

"That's all you have to say?" Bella asks incredulously.

Edward puts his arms on the table and leans forward. Bella blinks at him and leans away for a second, caught off guard by his nearness.

"Honestly, Bella, I managed to move past it after a while," Edward says. His tone is nonchalant, but his emotions rage under his façade.

"So… what?" Bella asks, slightly confused. "You don't care about anything I'm saying right now?" Edward can see the hurt in her eyes.

"That's not it," Edward says, shaking his head. "I appreciate what you're saying, I absolutely do. It's just that, after a year or two, I stopped thinking about it. I decided it was in the past and that I should let it go."

"You just… let it go?" Bella asks skeptically.

Edward avoids her gaze. "Yes."

"Liar."

Bella's voice is low, angry, harsh. It's like she swallowed venom before she spoke it, and when he looks at her, she's glaring at him.

"I don't believe that for a second," Bella says. "If you'd let it go, you wouldn't be like this right now."

"Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for me to pull out a knife and stab you in the chest. Like you don't care about anything I'm saying. Like none of this matters to you, even though it's so obvious that it does."

"You think you know me so well, don't you?" Edward asks sarcastically. "Just like you did when we were in high school."

Hurt crosses Bella's face. However, Edward's mind is a shield and his words are the sword, one protecting him while the other defends.

"That's what I mean," Bella says sadly. "You're bitter and you're still angry, and you wouldn't be this way if you were 'over' it."

Edward stares at her quietly, heart beating erratically. This entire conversation is taking a toll on him, mentally and physically, and he feels so incredibly exhausted.

She's managed to read him so easily, while she herself remains perfectly guarded.

Since when did things get switched around?

"All right, so it changed me," Edward admits quietly, "and I didn't get over it. You're right. However, I'm not going to take back what I said that day. You only noticed me when it was convenient for you. Your head was constantly in the clouds, seeing Ben for what he wasn't and failing to see me for what I was."

"I know," Bella says, dropping her head slightly. "Believe me, I know. You were right, and you seriously opened my eyes. But god, Edward, please don't act like you're the only victim in this situation."

Edward leans back in his seat, surprised. "What do you mean?"

The anger and hurt is back in Bella's eyes. "Did you ever think, even for a second, what just totally cutting me out of your life would do to me? Did you?"

Edward is dumbfounded, and he is never dumbfounded by anything.

"It was selfish," Bella whispers. "I realized what I did, intentional or not, was selfish. But what you did was selfish, too. Did that ever occur to you over the past three years?"

Edward swallows, his throat dry.

He suddenly feels very small in her presence.

"I didn't…" he trails off, his mind spinning.

All that time he spent hating her, all that time he worked on moving on with his life, did he think about how she must have been feeling?

The truth of the matter is that, every now and then, the possible repercussions of his decision had crossed his mind. He knew without a doubt that he had hurt her, but that's what he had wanted. Deep down, he had every intention to hurt her like she had hurt him.

He hadn't expected the pain to still be so strong on her end, and he wishes he could take it all back now.

Edward rubs his face with both hands and lets his walls down, just a little bit.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking at her. Her eyes stare back, mirrors of his exhaustion. "I didn't think about it that way. My fragile self-esteem had deteriorated, and I was just trying to protect myself from the hurt."

"You still are, aren't you?" Bella asks tentatively.

Edward doesn't respond, and his silence is all the answer she needs.

They sit quietly for a moment, their drinks forgotten. The café is more full now, but the steady buzz of activity and voices is barely noticeable in the background.

"You said you had a lot to say to me," Bella says softly.

"Right." Edward's voice is gruff and his mind scrambles to remember what he'd had to say.

The only problem is that he can't say any of that now. Not after she called him out on not being the only victim.

All of the words he had for her, the politely constructed yet painfully eye-opening descriptions of what he'd felt that day in the rain and for months afterward, are no longer appropriate.

In fact, he sees them for what they are.

Distasteful, angry words that no one deserves to hear, especially not Bella. If anything, Edward's the one who needed a verbal lashing, and Bella's delivered just that.

"It was nothing," Edward says, shaking his head.

Bella frowns. "Just say it and get it out of the way."

"I can't." He looks at her sadly, apologizing with his eyes. "None of it was particularly kind."

"Oh."

"And you don't deserve it," he adds.

With all their cards laid out on the table, they are able to fall into a silence that almost feels like their old silences. The silences that were companionable and calm, not awkward at all.

Edward and Bella both have their gazes lowered to the table, both fidgeting with their mostly-full cups. They occasionally steal glances at each other, under their lashes, and those fleeting glimpses manage to say a lot more than their entire conversation just did.

"Do you think we could start over?"

Edward almost doesn't hear the question. She says it so quietly, so tentatively that her voice all but fades into the steady hum around them.

His head whips up, and she's still looking at him from under her lashes. Her expression is sheepish, shy, so horribly, achingly adorable that he wants to reach across the table and kiss her.

Edward has never been more thankful for his practiced self-control. Bella tests every ounce of his willpower without even trying, and as infuriating as it is, he controls his impulse and holds absolutely still.

Does he want to start over with her? Does he want to make himself vulnerable again, to open himself up to any possible pain that may occur?

Bella takes his hesitation as a no and looks down again, trying to hide her hurt by sipping at her drink. She doesn't push him on it, and he wishes she would.

As he looks at her, Edward wonders how he could possibly have expected to walk away from her after being in such close proximity to her. How could he have imagined that such a thing was even _close _to possible?

Edward tries to imagine what would happen if he did walk away right now. He'd finish up his senior year, finish up the internship, and then start grad school. Maybe he'll meet another nice girl at some point, though the probability of that is bleak.

After all, who could compare to the girl who sits before him? The girl with the perpetually pink cheeks and the painted fingernails and the eyes that say so much and yet so little…

She'd probably move on too, if he left her again.

She'd continue with school, get a job, meet some nice guy…

At the thought of Bella being with someone else, Edward feels sick to his stomach. The thought is absolutely repulsive to him, and although he has no claim to her, he can't help but feel as though he does.

_You're no better than any possessive asshole,_ he internally berates himself. _She doesn't belong to you, and she never has. _

And yet, there's another voice in his head that says, _She should. She should be yours._

"I'm sorry," Bella says with a sigh. "Don't mind me, I'm just… stuck in the past."

"No, don't apologize," Edward says hastily. "It's just…"

"You're worried I'm gonna hurt you again," Bella finishes his sentence, lips forming a sad smile.

Edward shrugs one shoulder. "Something along those lines. I know I should give you more credit, it's just that the past few years…"

"Me too, Edward," Bella says almost exasperatedly. "They were hard for me, too. But I've grown, and I just want to try again."

Edward wants to try again, too.

More than anything.

But now his heart is beating at the pace of his worries, and every beat warns him that if he goes through with this, he's taking a huge risk.

"I understand if you don't," Bella adds. "I just thought it would be worth a shot, what with us going to the same school and having class together."

Edward nods in understanding, and every second that goes by moves the hardworking logic in his brain to the easily impulsive logic in his chest. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"My prefrontal cortex agrees with you," Edward mutters despite himself.

He gives her a genuine smile this time, though it's only half his mouth, and the look on Bella's face makes it entirely worthwhile.

It's hope and happiness and relief and she suddenly resembles the fifteen year old girl he fell for.

"Really?" she asks.

"Really," Edward reiterates. He doesn't understand the relief he feels.

"However, in all seriousness," he leans forward and his smile fades, as does Bella's. She anxiously leans closer to him to better hear what he has to say. "We have to go slow. It's clear to me that we're different people now, and so things will probably be… different."

"So we should just pretend we don't know each other," Bella says seriously, nodding. "You know, since you're meeting a different Bella and I'm meeting a different Edward."

"Precisely."

Anyone watching them from a distance would think that they were discussing some kind of business deal. They lean towards each other with intense expressions of concentration, looking very serious.

Bella leans back in her seat, blinks, and then gives him a huge grin. "Hi!"

Edward blinks back. "Hello?"

"Oh my god, that's exactly how you said hello on the first day of school."

"Is it?"

"Totally. Except, you looked scared and now you just look bewildered."

"I should have shaken your hand that day," Edward says regretfully. He holds it out and Bella immediately grasps it.

It doesn't escape him that this is the first time they've touched in three years. Nevertheless, the goose bumps that appear along his arms at her touch catch him off guard. Bella's hand is surprisingly cold from clutching her drink, but he's unsure if it is simply the chill or something else about her soft hand that evokes the physiological reaction.

Eventually, their hands slide out of each other and fall limply to the table.

Bella's phone chirps and she jumps at the sound, reaching into her back pocket.

"Oh crap, have we really been sitting here for two hours?" she asks in response to the text message.

Edward is suddenly aware of how stiff his body is from its lack of movement.

"I told Charlotte, my roommate, that I'd go into town with her today," Bella adds.

"Am I keeping you?" Edward asks apologetically.

Bella looks up at him, an odd expression on her face. There is something wistful and glossy about her eyes, and it reminds him of when High School Bella used to daydream in class.

"No, not at all," she finally says quietly.

Edward walks Bella to Dorm C, and the walk is a pleasant one. They don't talk much about the past, present, or future, but rather about random things like the weather and how their choice of coffee (which they barely drank) over food has suddenly left them ravenous.

Once they reach Bella's building and turn to face each other, Edward is overcome with the urge to take her into his arms and to just feel her against him.

However, under the circumstances, that wouldn't be wise.

Not when he still feels so fragile.

"I'm really glad we did this and you didn't just tell me to fuck off," Bella laughs.

Edward raises his brows at her language; High School Bella never used to swear. She would have damned herself to hell for it.

"Sorry; Charlotte's rubbing off on me," Bella explains.

"I don't mind at all," Edward assures her with a small smile. He tries not to think about how enticingly her teeth scraped against her lower lip on the word 'fuck'.

"I guess I'll see you in class, huh?" she asks.

Edward nods. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

They continue to stare at each other, and he watches as Bella plays with her fingers.

Instinctively and without thinking, Edward reaches over and grabs her hand, giving it a sudden squeeze.

Instantaneously, he regrets doing it. That involuntary action alone has managed to open the floodgates of his desires, and he suddenly knows that he won't be able to stop touching her.

Bella blinks up at him as he lets go of her hand, letting it fall limply to her side.

_Go slow, _he reminds himself.

Bella begins to back away from him. "See ya."

"Bye."

As Bella disappears from sight, he suddenly realizes why she had given him an odd look back at the café.

"_Am I keeping you?" _he had asked her.

The answer to that question is painfully obvious. Edward realizes that, despite needing to slowly rebuild their relationship and the trust between them, he wouldn't be able to walk away from her again if he tried.

He has no choice but to keep her, because having to let her go again would completely and utterly destroy him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I am ready to rekindle some fires and make them _**burn**_, baby. (That is my silly way of saying that we need some sexy times up in here, and soon.)

_Fear or Desire _is a bright orange that would look terrible with my skin tone. It's by Essie.

See you soon!


	19. Charged Up

**A/N:** Yes, yes, I know this is an entire week late. I had to have the writer's block surgically removed. I am being told it might grow back, but let's hope not. Thank you for being so patient and HI, NEW READERS! :)

All the awards to **Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove **for their impeccable beta-ing and pre-reading skills.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: Charged Up<strong>

"When do you think she'll notice us staring at her?"

"No clue."

"How long has it been?"

"I'd say it's been a good 3.5 minutes or so."

"Maybe we should start talking about something that'll get her attention."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

"Dude, why do your balls look like that?"

Bella blinks, immediately snapping out of her reverie. She looks up at the bemused faces of Jacob and Emmett, and thankfully no genitals are on display.

"I think it was your booming voice and not the statement itself that did it," Jacob tells Emmett matter-of-factly.

Emmett ignores him and gives Bella an expectant look. They sit in a booth at Archie's, one of the diners in town. Charlotte and Rosalie made a casual and unnecessary trip to the bathroom, leaving Bella with the boys.

"Sorry," Bella mumbles, shaking her head. Her thought are of full of Edward. Full of how his eyes burned when she asked him to start over, how his skin felt electric against hers after so long, how his scent filled her with a warmth she couldn't shake…

Their coffee "date" had gone much better than she'd expected. She wouldn't have been surprised if Edward had told her off and then disappeared again, but she couldn't let that happen without at least attempting to rekindle that old flame.

Ultimately, their conversation ended up being an immensely therapeutic one for Bella. Three years' worth of pent-up emotions had freed her from their chains, liberating her and giving her a significantly more positive outlook on everything around her.

The best part was Edward's willingness to try again. That fact alone had filled her with a hope so bright that she worried the smallest speck of darkness would be enough to weigh her down again.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" Jacob asks, grinning. Two days ago, she would have found charm in his smile, so bright against his dark skin. Now the glaring obviousness of it doesn't even compare to the subtle sweetness that is Edward's smile.

Bella bites her lip and decides to keep the details as minimal as possible.

"I ran into an old friend," she explains casually, "from high school. We were close, but ended on bad terms. We had coffee this morning and now we're starting over."

Jacob's eyes narrow in curiosity. "There's more to the story."

Bella shrugs. "Yeah." She hopes her evasiveness is a big enough hint for him to back off.

"What's she like?" Jacob hedges.

"He," Bella corrects, and Jacob raises his brows.

She's saved from further explanation when the other girls join them.

"So, we just got a text from Carmen," Charlotte says, sliding in next to Bella. "There's a party at Joe's Bar on Friday. Ladies get in for free after 11pm."

"That's the same night as James'," Rosalie points out.

"We won't be able to drink if we go to Joe's," Emmett complains. "At least there's free beer at the frat houses."

As her friends discuss what party to go to and whether or not it would be worth it to abstain from alcohol, Bella can't help but feel a little out of place. She's never been to a party, let alone one where alcohol was served and consumed so freely.

Charlotte nudges her. "Ask Edward if he wants to come."

"So that's his name, huh?" Jacob asks, and Bella wonders when he started becoming so annoying.

"I don't know," Bella says hesitantly. "He's not the partying type."

"Neither are you, but we can work on that, can't we?" Rosalie adds, winking.

"Oh man, can you imagine Bella drunk?" Emmett asks, laughing.

"I bet she's a wild thing," Charlotte chimes in. "All the good girls are."

Bella scoffs. "I am not a good girl." When the others look at her skeptically, she backtracks. "Well, I've never had an opportunity to be a _bad _one."

Charlotte shakes her head and puts an arm around Bella's shoulder. "You don't have to be a bad girl. You can still be a good girl and have fun. Let loose. We'll take care of you."

Bella doesn't know how to explain to them that she doesn't care about letting loose.

She just wants to spend time with Edward.

* * *

><p>Bella can hardly sleep on Sunday night, and she's up and alert way earlier than she needs to be on Monday morning.<p>

Her body buzzes with excitement as she walks to the showers and the only thought running through her head is: _I get to see Edward today._

With more than an hour until class, Bella takes the opportunity to paint her nails a shade of electric blue, brighter than she's worn in a while. She changes her outfit three times and her shoes twice before realizing that she's being ridiculous.

It's just Edward.

Her old best friend, her confidant, and simply the sweetest guy she's ever known.

But no, he's so much more than that now.

They're at a new stage in their relationship where she can't label him as any one thing.

All she knows is that's he's someone and something different and he means more to her now than she ever thought possible.

Bella gets to class almost half an hour early. Munching on an apple, she slides down onto the floor outside of the lecture hall. Another class is in session inside, and she feels a little silly for being so early.

She barely notices when Edward slides down next to her. If it wasn't for his clean, slightly earthy scent, she would have thought it was a stranger and cringed away from him.

Bella is surprised when she turns her head to see that he's closer to her than she expected. She can't help but notice the specks of gold in his eyes and how he has a tiny brown mole on his cheekbone.

Her breath catches at the sight of him. She's still unaccustomed to this Edward. This brand new, older, confident Edward who still manages to retain the sweetness she'd known and loved. She doesn't know if she'll ever get used to the fact that he's back in her life now, victimizing her to deep aches and sparks she hasn't felt before.

"Apple seeds are poisonous," Edward states frankly.

Bella suddenly feels embarrassed that he's talking to her when she has a giant chunk of apple in her mouth, and she tries to chew daintily and swallow before she answers.

"I knew that," she says smugly.

Edward frowns. "Well, damn."

"Better luck next time." She hesitates, and then continues before she can change her mind. "Poisonous apple seeds are an _awful_ pickup line."

Edward stares at her, smirking slightly. "Is that so?"

"It is very much so."

"What kind of subject matter should my pickup lines contain, then?"

Bella sighs and pretends to think while her heart hammers. Talking to him so playfully causes her body to react in long forgotten ways. "Hmmm…. Well, nothing that involves food for starters. Girls don't need you ruining jellybeans and chocolate for them." She gives him a scornful look.

Edward's mouth twitches as he suppresses a smile. "Do I still need to earn your forgiveness for that?"

Bella raises a stern brow. "Yes."

"But did it actually prevent you from eating chocolate, ant legs included?"

"No, but that is _so_ beside the point!"

Edward grins. "All right; I digress. I think I've come up with a better pickup line, though."

"Try me."

Edward glances away from her and licks his lip, narrowing his eyes at the wall across from them. "You know, there are some individuals who suffer from hypopituitarism. That's a rare disease in which you can't feel the rapture of romantic love. Looking at you, I know that's one disease I won't ever suffer from."

Bella's words get stuck in her throat and her heart stutters… mere seconds before she bursts out laughing.

There is something hysterical and anxious about her laughter. She brings her knees to her chest and guffaws into her thighs, practically snorting as she does so.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out through a fit of giggles. "That was just…"

Edward grins. "Too cheesy?"

Bella calms herself down and chuckles one last time before wiping a tear. "That might be a _bit_ much for a pickup line," she admits. "However, consider me picked up."

Edward gets to his feet and holds out his hand. "Well, at least it's worked on someone." He flashes her his brilliant smile, one that brightens his eyes.

Bella wonders if Edward meant what he said about "going slow", because she wants to consume him as quickly and as powerfully as the tide rising during a hurricane.

As they walk into the lecture hall, Edward leads them down to some seats in the middle aisle, close to the front but not too close.

"So," Bella says once they're seated. She lifts up the desk top attached to her seat and settles her notebook and green gel pen on top. "I must ask… Why are you a senior and taking a 100 level class?"

Edward chuckles. "Well, it's kind of a long story. See, when I first started, I already knew I was going to major in Psychology, so I jumped the gun and took all the classes that I needed for that. I ignored as many general requirement classes as I could, prerequisites not included, so now I'm left with loose ends. I'm taking this class because it fulfills the requirement _and_ it's painfully easy. My stress level this semester is almost nonexistent."

Bella nods, humming in acknowledgement, and Edward nudges her with his elbow.

"Where did you transfer from?" he asks.

"Port Angeles Community. It was really small. It honestly didn't even feel like college."

Edward narrows his eyes in curiosity. "Why'd you go there?"

Bella realizes in that moment that they haven't _really_ filled in all the blanks of the past few years. They've been so caught up in each other that they skipped several crucial details in their lives.

"My dad was in a really bad accident," Bella explains, "and he seriously messed up his foot. He couldn't get around without help from me or my mom, and he couldn't work, so we had to get jobs to pay off the medical expenses. He needed me nearby."

"Wow," Edward says quietly. "I'm sorry. That must have been tough."

Bella shrugs a shoulder. "We got through it. He was much better when I left, and he was the one who insisted I go far away for college."

Edward smiles. "What about your mom? Does she still drive you insane?"

Bella laughs, but it fades quicker than it came. "She was different after my dad's accident. It aged her, you know? It aged the both of us."

"I can tell," Edward murmurs. His eyes search her face, as though looking for signs of the Old Bella.

She feels his breath on her face, and she blinks, staring back at him. It's so easy to talk to him now, after all the initial awkwardness has faded away.

"How are your folks doing?" Bella asks, glancing away from him. She worries that looking at him for too long will somehow prove that he is an illusion; there is still a part of her that can't quite believe she has him back.

"They're good," Edward answers. "Moving to a city worked wonders on their marriage."

Bella frowns. "I didn't know they were having problems." She realizes with a twinge of shame that she didn't know because she never asked anything about Edward's life when they were in high school.

"The move was supposed to be good for all of us. Small town life wasn't working out."

"And how's Maggie?" Bella asks with a fond smile. "Is she still as cute as can be?"

Edward rubs the back of his neck, grimacing slightly. "Well, as cute as an awkward twelve year old is capable of being."

"I remember twelve," Bella says, scowling slightly. "Not fun."

"Ditto."

They're interrupted when the professor walks in, and Bella settles comfortably into her seat.

Unfortunately, due to Edward's close proximity, actual comfort is difficult to achieve.

Through the first twenty minutes of class, Bella's mind wanders no further than the boy sitting to her right. She's aware of his every movement, every breath, every sound…

The lights in the lecture hall dim significantly as the professor puts up some slides, and Bella's body begins to buzz. It's inexplicable, the effect he has on her. Even when his actions are limited to just _sitting there_, next to her, her body acts as though he's touched her from head to toe.

There is a warmth that spreads through her from having him sit so close. They don't touch, and they don't move, yet they connect. Somehow, Bella's skin is communicating with Edward's, silently but almost overwhelmingly.

She can almost feel the stubble on his jaw, just inches away from her, and his warm breath against the skin of her neck, the heat of it managing to spread down to her chest, her stomach, her thighs…

She is charged up, a live wire, and he doesn't even have to try.

Glancing at Edward from the corner of her eye, Bella can see that he's a little tense himself. His hand is curled into a fist on the armrest of his seat and he's as still as a statue.

He shifts, crossing his legs before uncrossing them seconds later. His knee accidentally bumps against Bella's, and she pretends to not notice it. In reality, that one little tap in the dimly lit room has intensified her awareness of him.

Bella's fingers twitch; she wants to touch him. She never got to touch him enough, and now that she can, she won't. The last thing she wants to do is scare him away.

It's harder than she ever thought it would be. Not reaching over and grabbing his hand or running her fingers over the back of his neck is proving to be a challenge. God, he smells good. She wants to tuck her head into his chest and inhale until she falls asleep, until she gets lost in Edward and his very existence.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Edward's whisper catches her off guard, his breath fanning across her cheek and causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She looks at him and his face is so very close, eyes glinting with some indescribable emotion.

"What do you mean?" she asks. She can't think when his lips are only inches away.

"I don't think I can sit through any more of this," Edward says quietly. "Besides, the slides are online."

"You- you want to leave?" Bella asks in surprise.

"Only if you'll come with me," he responds. "I'll understand if you want to st-"

"Let's go." Bella doesn't let him finish before she's quietly getting to her feet, ignoring the looks she gets from some of the students around her. In high school, she would have been self conscious of their gazes, but she can't seem to care when Edward's with her.

Leaving the lecture hall, Bella welcomes the cool air against her heated skin. Edward looks just as relieved, and she smirks at him.

"You are a terrible influence, Edward Cullen. It's only the second day of class and you're _already _turning me into a slacker."

Edward smirks back, bumping her shoulder. "What can I say? I'm a rebel."

They end up out on the quad, sitting under a tree. Edward props himself up against the bark and Bella sits perpendicular to him, her legs stretched out so that her feet almost touch his.

"Hey, Bella?" Edward says quietly. The sun peeks in from between the leaves of the gigantic tree, making patterns on his skin.

"Yeah?" She watches him, entranced by how ethereal he looks in this moment.

"What happened to Alice?"

The question surprises her, and she raises her brows.

Alice.

What _did _happen to her?

The thought of Alice sends an ache through Bella, though it's an entirely different ache from the one she used to feel thinking about Edward.

It's an ache of pity.

"I'm not sure, really," Bella says regretfully. "I know she dropped out that year. I think she got back with Jasper, because I'd see his bike in front of her house every now and then, but… I honestly didn't see her much."

Edward rests his head back against the tree and sighs. His eyes are distant as he chews on the inside of his lower lip, a crease forming between his brows.

Bella hasn't spent much time thinking about Alice. After their trio fell apart, the only person that occupied her thoughts was Edward. Seeing Alice from time to time had always been extremely awkward and Bella had pushed those encounters out of her mind as quickly as possible.

Edward's position hasn't changed. He still gazes across the grassy lawn in quiet contemplation. There is a sadness about his expression, deep regret etched into the curve of his frown.

With a pang, Bella realizes the direction in which his thoughts must be going.

She kneels and scoots closer to him so that her knees are touching his denim covered leg.

"Please tell me you aren't blaming yourself," she says.

Edward looks at her with alert eyes this time, bright and penetrating. He doesn't respond, and that's how Bella knows she's right.

"I don't know," Edward murmurs, looking away from her. "Honestly, I think I was too hard on her. I was too hard on both of you." He shakes his head. "If I could go back…"

"But you can't," Bella says, and she finds herself putting a hand on his leg. The muscle is surprisingly firm under her hand, and she tries very hard to ignore how it feels. "Honestly, I don't think anything you could have done would have stopped her from being some massive train wreck."

"You don't get it," Edward says, shaking his head. "I'd known her since fourth grade. I was all she ever had, and she could have ended up significantly worse if I hadn't been there for her. God, I was so selfish."

"We all were," Bella says quietly, "but we were kids."

"Yeah," Edward says, voice gruff. "Kids. We still are kids, though, aren't we?" He looks at her, searches her face for something, and then sighs. "What dumb mistake are we going to make next?"

* * *

><p>Bella and Edward stay under the tree long after their class would have ended. They chat aimlessly for a while, and Bella finds herself learning far more about Edward than she'd ever thought to ask.<p>

She's hungry for knowledge, asking question after question about his entire life.

She needs to know him, inside and out.

It's like she's getting to know him for the first time. They skipped this step in high school, at least on her side, she realizes. While he'd figured out so much about her when they were young teens, she barely knew anything about the boy who had unexpectedly staked claim to her heart.

Bella is surprised to learn that Edward is allergic to walnuts.

He can play piano, though it's because he was forced into lessons as a child and not because he enjoyed it.

He is particularly fond of foreign films and listening to music by artists no one has ever heard of.

He despises anything orange flavored, and loves anything apple flavored.

He's a runner, and runs every other morning.

He's studying psychology because he wants to open up his own clinic or private practice.

What stuns Bella most of all is that he refuses to read anything fictional unless it is out of necessity.

"Are you serious?" Bella asks, staring at him dubiously. "You _never _read fiction?"

"Haven't voluntarily read a fictional word since an English class three semesters ago," Edward confirms with a nod. He can tell this piece of information annoys her; his eyes glint in amusement, and this only annoys Bella further.

"How can you not enjoy fiction at all?" she asks incredulously. "Are you telling me there isn't _one_ piece of literature that you enjoyed?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Edward says. "_Fahrenheit 451, Catcher in the Rye, _and_ A Farewell to Arms_ are all good ones that I actually own. I even have a soft spot for _The Bell Jar_, though that probably has to do with the psychological aspect of it. It's just that, well, I think reading fiction for fun is… pointless."

Bella gasps dramatically. _"Pointless?"_

Edward shrugs, the sheepish expression on his face giving way to an amused smile. He licks his lips, ready to form an argument. "Think about it. There is a _world_ of knowledge out there. Why would I waste my time reading about places and people who don't exist when I could be reading and learning about _real_ things?"

"You're missing the point," Bella argues. "Real or not, literature manages to capture so much about life and love and _everything_… Sometimes you can learn things from a made-up story that you can't learn from some autobiography. There are actual messages in literature and things are worded so beautifully that it touches you here." She reaches out and touches his chest. "That's an amazing feeling."

"It feels amazing when something touches you here, too," Edward says, putting two fingers on her temple. Her breathing hitches. "It's a powerful feeling."

"Fantasy is powerful."

"Reality matters more."

They stare at each other silently, both with eyes that never waver. Bella's hand remains on Edward's chest, and she can faintly feel his heartbeat against her palm. Edward's fingers graze against the skin of her temple, light as a feather, and she wonders if he can feel her tremble.

After a moment of looking at him, Bella forgets that they are having an impromptu staring contest.

She gets lost in the very sight of him, of the rugged look she never thought she'd see on baby-faced Edward. He makes her tingle with a single gaze, and when he stares at her the tingle only intensifies.

"I suppose this is something we'll never agree on," Edward says, cutting through her distracted silence.

He drops his hand, and his fingers slide down her face in a caress.

"I pity the fictional joy you will never feel," Bella says. She moves her hand to his shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. "I offer my sincere condolences for the wonderful characters you will never meet."

Edward smirks, never looking away from her, and takes the hand she has resting on his shoulder. The skin of his hand is rough against hers, and she loves the feel of it.

"I pity your disinterest in the abundance of knowledge you so readily avoid," he says. He cups her hand in between both of his and pretends to look sad. "I offer my sincere condolences for the information you will never voluntarily hold."

Bella's fingers twitch against Edward's palm as she rolls her eyes. "Right, because you'll be shoving it down my throat."

Edward blinks and the reality of what she's just said hits Bella with a rush of blood to her face. Edward swallows and opens his mouth as if to say something, but she gets an exhale instead of words.

"There you are!"

A high-pitched, exuberant voice cuts through the sudden tension and Edward lets Bella's hand slide out of both of his.

Charlotte is walking towards them, flanked by Jacob and Emmett. She smirks at Bella, her gaze flitting between Bella's hand and Edward's. "Why didn't you answer your phone?" she asks accusingly, though her expression is far too delighted to be annoyed.

"It's in my bag," Bella answers, rummaging through it. "It's still on silent from class."

"Hi, Edward," Charlotte says, kneeling onto the grass across from them. She sticks out her hand. "Nice seeing you again."

Edward frowns and looks guilty as he takes her hand. "I'm sorry. Have we met?"

"Our families went on a cruise together three years ago," Charlotte explains.

Realization dawns on Edward's face. "Oh! Your hair was pink back then?"

Charlotte laughs. "Yes, it was. I'm going for a more natural look this time." She nods to where Jacob and Emmett are now sprawled onto the grass. "That's Jacob, and that's Emmett." Edward nods at them appropriately, and Bella doesn't miss how he gives them a once over with slightly narrowed eyes.

"How come we've never seen you around here before, man?" Emmett asks.

"I live off campus," Edward explains. "I'm a senior, so I don't have too many classes to take."

"You don't look like a senior," Jacob says, and his tone makes it sound like an insult.

Edward arches a brow at him. "Started college a year early."

Emmett whistles, looking impressed. "Damn. If I had the brains for that, I'd be out of here by now. Sophomore year and going nowhere."

"Actually, studies show that the first two years of college are virtually useless," Edward informs them.

"Really?" Charlotte looks skeptical.

"To an extent," Edward says. "Statistically speaking, there aren't many academic gains for students in the first two years. It's mainly about socially adapting and learning to learn and function on your own."

"And how do you know this, exactly?" Jacob asks.

Bella knows what his answer will be before he says it.

Edward shrugs one shoulder. "I read a lot."

"So we can party without feeling guilty?" Emmett asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Edward smiles. "I suppose."

Emmett does a fist pump and hollers loud enough for people across the quad to stare at him.

"Speaking of parties," Charlotte says, turning to Bella excitedly. "You know that party I told you about, the one at Joe's? The one we weren't going to go to because we wouldn't be able to drink? It turns out that Peter got a bartending job there."

"Free drinks, baby!" Emmett says, giving Bella a playful shove. She giggles, shoving him back as Edward watches with a solemn expression.

"I didn't know you party," Edward says quietly.

"I don't," Bella replies, trying to understand the disappointed look on his face.

"Not yet," Jacob chuckles. He gives Bella a once-over. "I bet you'd be _wild_ with a little alcohol in you."

"You have to come," Charlotte tells her. "Just _one_ party, at least once in your college career. You don't even have to drink." She turns to Edward. "You should come, too."

Bella bites her lip. "I don't know." She glances at Edward. "Would you go?"

Edward shrugs silently, and Bella fills her cheeks with air.

"You'll have a blast, I promise," Emmett tells her. "We'll make sure of it."

"Absolutely," Jacob chimes in, reaching across a frowning Edward to give her shoulder a light punch. "I know there's a party girl under all that innocence. The innocent ones are so much more fun to corrupt."

Bella glances at Edward in time to see his jaw clench. He glances away when their gazes meet, his frustrated expression settling into one of neutrality.

She's dying to know what's on his mind.

"What do you say, Edward?" Charlotte asks, nudging his knee with her foot. "Have you ever been to a party?"

"Yes, I have," Edward states. "Not my scene."

"Shocker," Jacob mumbles sarcastically.

Edward narrows his eyes at him before turning to look at Bella. His face is impassive, but his eyes burn.

"You know what? Maybe we should go and see what all the buzz is about."

"Really?" Bella's voice catches with surprise.

"Sure." Edward smiles. "We should go together."

Bella's stomach flip-flops at his words, and she can't say no to the look on his face. There is an odd determination in his expression, and it gives her goosebumps, even under the warm sun.

"Okay," she finds herself saying. "I guess we're going to this party. Together."

The satisfied smirk Edward gives her turns the tingle in her gut into a warm ache in an entirely different place.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Parties. Alcohol. Impaired judgement. Anything can happen!

God, is it sad that I'm super excited about the next chapter? I cannot write it fast enough. I wish I could mentally transfer the words onto the doc and then share it immediately. Gah.

Anyway... _Charged Up_ is a grape jelly kind of purple by ORLY.

Excitement = no writer's block. You won't have to wait two weeks.

xo


	20. Wild Thing

**A/N:** It seems like a got a slew of new readers since the last update. Welcome! Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. We're serving epic amounts of booze today. ;)

**Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove **are everything this story needs and more.

Enjoy the fuckery in this one, y'all! :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20: Wild Thing<strong>

"Let me get this straight," Eleazar says through a mouthful of pizza. "You ran into the girl you cut ties with because you thought she was using you to make her ex jealous, and you reconnected, but now you're going to this party with her to prove a point to this Jacob guy? Isn't that kind of, well, hypocritical?"

Edward huffs as he lowers himself onto the couch, irritably shoving on a shoe. "That is _not_ what this is about."

And that's not what it's about, not entirely.

Upon meeting Bella's friends, Edward became concerned about the attention her male friends, particular this Jacob, had been giving her. He had only ever seen Bella around Ben Cheney, who had been her boyfriend at the time, but to see her being teased by guys who he assumed were single and willing was a completely different matter.

He did not particularly approve of Jacob's leering, especially after saying he wanted to "corrupt" Bella's innocence. A protective urge had awoken in Edward, one that tempted him to curl Bella under his arm like a football and carry her away from Jacob.

No one was aware of the internal battle Edward had been waging in those moments before agreeing to go to the party.

Having only ever been to two parties in the entirety of his college career, one out of curiosity and the other being the birthday party of a friend, he already knew that the college party scene was not for him. The swaying, sweaty bodies, the deafening music, and the smell of perspiration and vomit had nauseated him.

However, Bella's evident, albeit hesitant, desire to go to this party with her friends had Edward rethinking his self-inflicted ban on parties.

For the most part, Bella's friends seemed like good people. He could tell they were capable of taking care of her, but he couldn't ignore the need to protect her anyway.

It wasn't about proving a point to Jacob, or her other friends.

It was about taking care of her and making sure he didn't lose her to someone else.

Again.

"I'm just looking out for her," Edward says. He looks around for his car keys, and finds Molly playing with them.

"What happened to taking things slow?" Eleazar asks.

Eleazar, who has been Edward's closest friend all throughout college, is one of two people who knows Edward's history with Bella. In fact, Eleazar had stood in as a big brother and helped Edward "move on". Upon hearing about Bella's return into Edward's life, he had strongly supported Edward's decision to take their relationship slowly.

Edward sighs, checking his reflection in the glass of the window. It's dark outside, well past 10pm, but the streets are as active as they are during the day. After all, college towns truly thrive on Friday nights.

"I'm beginning to doubt my decision to go slow," Edward admits. He musses his hair before running a hand through it. "It's been strenuous."

Eleazar nods sympathetically. "I can imagine. Stop fucking with your hair; it looks the same no matter what you do."

Edward drops his arms and rubs both hands over his face, turning to face his roommate. "I've never felt so irresolute about something, El. I'm well aware that the safest thing to do is go as slowly as possible, but I can't. My brain malfunctions when I'm with her. I go into dopamine overload and everything feels like it's all right again."

"Do you know if she still likes you like that?"

Edward shrugs. "I'd be blind not to notice the signs. I _know_ she does."

Eleazar is silent for a moment, eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"Edward," he says after a minute. He uses the tone he uses to give brotherly advice. "Please, for your own sake, don't do anything rash. Self-control, my friend. I know you have it. I know you probably want to kiss her, hold her, all that shit, but don't. Let _her_ make the first move. Ask her straight up if she still likes you if you want to. Just don't get screwed over again."

Edward shakes his head. "I thought this would be simpler the second time around."

"Nah." Eleazar tosses the pizza crust into the box on the coffee table and looks at Edward with wide, knowledgeable eyes. "Take it from a man engaged to be married. Stuff like this is always simpler the first time around. The second time is far more complicated. One tiny fuck up, and everything goes to shit."

* * *

><p>Edward doesn't quite know what to expect when he arrives on campus to pick up Bella.<p>

Hands shoved in his pockets, he walks across the lot and towards the Student Union, where he'll be meeting the others.

The lobby of the building isn't crowded, especially not at this hour of the night. However, the rambunctious laughter of Bella's crew makes it seem full.

"Edward has arrived!" Emmett yells dramatically.

Edward stares at him, walking towards where he sits with Jacob and a pretty blonde he hasn't met.

"Are you already drunk?" Edward asks incredulously.

"Just in case we can't later," Emmett slurs.

The blonde rolls her eyes. "I told you the plan, and that was when you were sober. Peter's gonna sneak us in through the back and give us the wristbands." She looks at Edward and smiles. "I'm Rosalie. The girlfriend of this knucklehead."

Edward raises his brows and shakes her hand, pleasantly surprised. He wasn't aware Emmett was already accounted for. Such information slightly eases his trepidations.

"Where's Bella?" he asks. Her absence is making him jittery.

The question leaves his mouth seconds before he hears the clicking of heels on linoleum. Turning, he sees Bella and Charlotte turning a corner where the bathrooms are.

"Sorry," Charlotte says. "Makeup touchups."

Edward completely forgets Charlotte's existence. He forgets where he is and who he's with and what his name is, because the sight of Bella has shut his brain down and lit a flame down south.

"Do I look too slutty?" Bella asks hesitantly. "This is like, the most modest dress Charlotte owns."

Edward's eyes roam her petite form, words failing him. A slim-fitting, strapless turquoise dress hugs her chest and her hips, ending an inch or two above her knees. Her hair is extra wavy, but it's pulled up into a ponytail, calling all attention to her face, the elegant curve of her neck, the subtle shimmer on her eyelids, and the gloss on her lips. It's a stunning, classy look that accentuates her every feature.

Jacob whistles. "Damn, girl."

Edward tries very hard to ignore him as he smiles at Bella. "Not slutty, no. You look…" There is an unexpected lump in his throat, and talking through it is suddenly harder than what's growing in his pants.

"Sexy as fuck?" Jacob loudly finishes the sentence for him, and Edward's patience with the ignoramus finally wears thin.

"Fuck' is a verb," Edward tells him agitatedly. "You cannot _be_ a verb. You cannot describe something _as_ a verb. Can someone be as pretty as walk or annoying as run? If that makes even a _sliver _of sense to you, I sincerely hope you develop a better understanding of the English language during your attendance at this university." When Jacob stares at him blankly, like everyone else in the room, he turns to Bella again. "Shall we?"

He offers her his arm and she takes it with a shy smile, looking over her shoulder at her friends. "See you guys there?"

They mumble in agreement and Edward leads her away.

"You're stunning," Edward informs her as they step out into the cool autumn night. "I feel horribly underdressed."

"I think Charlotte went overboard with the makeup," Bella says quietly. "But thank you." He can practically feel the heat of her blush, and as they pass under a lamppost, he can indeed see the pink tinting her cheeks.

"You know," he says as they reach his car, "when you blush, the lining of your stomach also turns red."

Bella climbs into the passenger seat as Edward takes the driver's side. She puts a hand on her stomach. "That is _such_ a weird thought."

Edward turns the key in the ignition and opens his mouth to answer her, but his response is cut short when he becomes aware of the fact that her scent has absolutely surrounded him.

Her sweet, lightly perfumed pomegranate aroma has flooded the small space of the car and infiltrated his every sense. Never has the scent of something aroused him, and he finds himself knowing that he's going to have an embarrassing hard-on before the night is through.

Heck, he's already halfway there.

* * *

><p>The crowd outside of Joe's Bar is larger than either Edward or Bella could have predicted. A line stretches out from the front door to well down the block, and Bella gasps.<p>

"Wow," she says as Edward drives by in search of a parking spot. "Is everyone going to fit in there? Why is it even so crowded?"

"I'm sure they'll start turning people away once they reach maximum capacity," Edward explains. He honks at someone trying to cut him off and ignores the finger he receives. "Besides, when it's LadiesNight, the amount of women doubles and the amount of men triples."

After finding a decent parking spot and climbing out of the car, Edward doesn't think twice before grabbing Bella's hand. He leads her through the throng of people on the street, and she clutches his hand tightly.

The town of Gordon is always crowded on weekend nights, and the environment is not new to Edward. Although the town is built like a small town with its quaint little shops and narrow streets, the energy is like that of a city.

"Okay. Yeah, got it." Bella ends a phone call and shoves her phone into her bag. "Peter says to meet the others at the back storage entrance of the bar. The left side."

Edward nods, and Bella lets out a shriek of excitement.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she says as they turn a quiet corner. "I feel so rebellious. The last time I felt this way, we-"

She cuts off abruptly and her eyes dart to the ground; Edward immediately knows where her mind just went.

The last time she felt this rebellious was when she snuck out of her house to go to the park with Edward.

The night they climbed the hill and looked at the stars and he kissed her for the very first time.

It was the kiss that changed everything, the kiss that had a domino effect on their relationship.

"You're not _really_ being rebellious," he tells her. "At least, not in the way you think. The only thing you're rebelling against is the law, what with the underage drinking."

"God, if only my mother could see me now. She'd want to have me exorcised."

Edward laughs as they approach the alleyway to Joe's Bar, where the others are already gathered. Loud, pounding music can be heard through the walls.

"Finally!" Rosalie says. "We thought you had to park on the other side of town or something."

"Just two blocks down," Edward tells her.

He eyes Jacob, whose gaze lingers on Edward and Bella's intertwined hands.

Edward holds on even tighter, and Bella makes no move to let go.

"Okay, Peter's coming out now," Charlotte says, stepping back from the alleyway door. She pushes her phone into her handbag and gestures at the others to step closer so that they can rush in.

A moment later, Peter opens the door, bringing a blast of music with him. He ushers them in and the group huddles close together to push their way through the door.

They're in a storage room, and Peter is stuffing 21-and-Over wristbands into their hands. Edward has only met him once, but one encounter was enough to know that he has an odd sense of humor, though he is fiercely loyal to his friends.

"If anyone asks," Peter says, "you didn't get these from me. You got them from a Romanian drug dealer named Stefano who you will never see again. Now, go!"

He pushes them out into the main bar area, and they immediately crash into a wave of music so deafening that it dizzies them.

It's the kind of music that becomes your heartbeat. It steals control of your body, making you move before you even know that you're moving. You feel the beat in your chest, a physical pounding that travels from the inside out. It intoxicates, it possesses, it becomes you.

A swarm of bodies sways to the rhythm on the dance floor, a display of every promiscuous movement known to man. Strobe lights pulse in time to the pounding music, flashing in blinding shades of blue and pink and green. The scent of sweat and alcohol is pungent, thickening the air around them.

Despite everything, Edward is not immune to such music. He doesn't notice his head moving to the bouncing beat as he glances down at Bella, who's practically crushing his fingers with her own.

Her eyes are wide as she surveys the scene, the pulsing lights reflected in her gaze. Her head is bobbing and the look of wonder and excitement on her face is almost childlike in its innocence.

She looks up at Edward and grins wide, and the light in her eyes has absolutely nothing to do with the lights around them.

She grabs Edward's arm and leans up so that her mouth his inches away from his ear.

"This is amazing!" she shouts.

Edward grins back and shrugs. He wants to say that nothing is more amazing than the look of pure joy on her face. He'd go to every party if it meant getting to see her glow like this.

Charlotte yells something over the music and takes Bella's other hand, pushing her way through people and heading towards the bar. Jacob, Emmett and Rosalie are already on the dance floor, getting lost among the sea of bodies.

They reach the bar, and Charlotte starts ordering drinks. Edward insists on paying for Bella's, but Peter tells him that all of her drinks are on him.

"Nothing too strong," Edward tells Peter, and Peter gives him a nod.

A moment later, Bella nervously holds her first drink in her hand. It's a cosmopolitan, but to her it might as well have been a grenade.

"Do it!" Charlotte shouts over the music. Rosalie has joined them, and the three girls lift their glasses in the air.

Bella anxiously glances up at Edward and he nods in encouragement. He can't discourage the excitement in her eyes. He's watching a caged bird emerge from the confines of her cage, one step at a time.

He puts a hand on her waist and leans down to speak in her ear.

"I'll take care of you," he says.

Giving him one final grin, Bella tentatively takes a sip of her drink.

First, she winces at the taste. Then, she chuckles nervously. Finally, she takes another sip and giggles, wrinkling her nose.

A few short minutes later, her drink is gone and Bella officially falls victim to tipsiness. She giggles uncontrollably and moves more easily to the music, her self-consciousness forgotten.

A certain song comes on and Charlotte takes Bella's hand again. "Come on!"

She drags Bella towards the dance floor, and Edward resists following them. He doesn't want to suffocate her with his protective presence, so he leans against the bar and watches with his hands in his pockets.

Charlotte is facing Bella, showing her how to move. She moves her hips, swaying them along to the beat, one hand on her hip and the other in the air. Her movements are slow and sensual, and Bella watches with intense concentration.

Edward watches Bella shake her head, evidently telling Charlotte she can't move like that. Charlotte encourages her, taking Bella's hands and placing them in the appropriate places. Bella tries mimicking the movements, but she looks awkward and begins to laugh.

Minutes more of awkward dancing pass before Bella returns.

"I want another one!" she hollers at Peter. He nods at her, giving two other people their drinks before mixing another Cosmo.

"This is so fun!" she yells at Edward. She's glowing, her grin bright white in the dim room. "Why are you just standing there? You should dance!"

Edward shakes his head and Bella rolls her eyes, saying something he can't hear over the music. She takes her drink from Peter with a thankful smile and immediately starts sipping it.

"This is actually really good!" she shouts. "You should try some."

He shakes his head again. "I have to drive, remember?"

Bella actually pouts for a second before drinking another sip. He watches her carefully, entranced by the way her lips press against the glass.

Before he knows it, the glass is empty and Bella is officially drunk. Her eyes are glazed and she clutches Edward for balance as Rosalie, equally as drunk, stumbles towards them.

"Ohmygod, Bella, dance with meee!" she slurs, grabbing Bella's arm. "This is our song!"

Bella gets dragged towards the dance floor again, and Edward follows this time, albeit hesitantly. Hands still stuffed in his pockets, he manages to move his head to the beat as he watches Bella dance with the girls.

All of her awkwardness has vanished.

She now moves just like Charlotte and Rosalie and the other young women around them, sensually rolling her hips and shoulders and jutting her behind out _just so._ Charlotte steps in front of Bella, their bodies touching, and they move in a rhythm so erotic that Edward goes completely still, hypnotized and intensely aroused by the sight.

Charlotte moves her hips, her behind grazing against Bella's thighs. Bella seems oblivious, lost to the music. Her eyes are closed as she sways to the beat, both of her hands in the air as she thrashes her hair to the music.

The song changes into something loud and upbeat, and Bella laughs as Charlotte almost trips over her.

Then, two large hands circle around her waist and they don't belong to Edward.

Jacob presses the length of his body up behind Bella and bends down to say something in her ear. She looks up at him, looking confused, and attempts to step away. Jacob doesn't let go, but begins moving to the music, his crotch right against Bella's rear.

Edward's body has gone absolutely cold rigid. In the four-second exchange between Jacob and Bella, he changed his mind about the entire night.

He can't merely observe her like a bodyguard. In fact, _now_ is the time to intervene. Who cares about self-control?

Edward pushes through a sweaty dancer who has blocked his view of Bella and steps towards her, pushing himself in front of Jacob and extracting her from his grip rougher than he intends.

"Dance with me," he says in her ear, and he ignores Jacob's angry and argumentative words as he dances backwards, taking Bella with him.

Of course, Edward's "dancing" consists of awkwardly bobbing his head up and down, more like he's at a rock concert than in a bar blasting hip hop.

Bella blinks up at him with her intoxicated stare, smiling.

"Thought ya didn't dance," she shouts.

Edward smiles, shrugging, and takes both her hands. Even under the flashing lights, with her glazed over eyes, flushed face, and messy hair, she's the loveliest girl he's ever seen. He never thought that someone could simultaneously be beautiful and wasted.

Bella closes her eyes again, moving to the music. She smiles while she dances, a look of pure ecstasy dominating her delicate features.

With her eyes still closed, she snakes her arms up Edward's chest and links them around his neck. Edward stops moving, his hand instinctively going to her hips.

Her hips slowly roll against the palms of his hands, the soft fabric of her dress rubbing enticingly across his skin.

Stupefied, he stands completely still and watches her body writhe two inches away from his. He can feel the heat of her body warming his own, and he feels himself break into a sweat.

Edward swallows, his throat bone dry, and tightens his grip on Bella's swiveling hips. Her chest is a hairsbreadth away from his own, and he can feel the blood in his body rush towards his groin.

Suddenly, the song changes into something louder and dirtier. Everywhere around them, bodies grind into each other with renewed fervor. The dance floor is a mess of gyrating hips and bottoms, everyone's inner animal brought out by the music.

Bella slowly opens her eyes, the content smile still on her lips. She slurs something he can't hear, but Edward is far from caring because he's looking at how her lips are so close and how easy it would be to kiss her, taste her, love her…

But he can't. Not when she's drunk. Not when she might not remember it.

Not when every ounce of self-control is leaving him with every single deafening beat that pulses through the room.

He knows that if he kisses her, he won't be able to stop.

Bella's hips momentarily slip out of his hands as she turns so that she has her back to him. The crowd sings along to the song, dozens of voices screaming into the air, and Bella joins them.

She momentarily stumbles backwards, right into Edward.

He grabs her waist to steady her, but her behind presses into his crotch, and then she _**moves.**_

"Fuck."

The word dies as soon as it leaves his lips, lost among the noise of the room.

Bella moves against him, again and again, lost in the music, and Edward finds it hard to breathe. His fingers tighten on her waist and he is deprived of all senses but touch.

She grinds up against him, bending over slightly and mimicking the girls around her, and Edward can feel the front of his jeans begin to tighten significantly.

Never have his thoughts consisted of such minimal vocabulary.

_God… Fuck….Shit… Fuck, fuck. fuck….Jesus Christ….Oh, god…Shit…_

Bella continues to rub up against him, and his hips thrust forward instinctively, heat and a painful kind of pleasure pulsing through his crotch.

The friction is too much.

Edward swallows, his forehead glistening with sweat, and blinks against the throbbing lights. He suddenly feels lightheaded, the pulsing in his groin his sole concern. He groans as Bella pushes against him even harder, and it takes everything in him to let go of her.

He stumbles backwards and Bella turns, the most adorably intoxicated expression of confusion on her face. He backs away from her and gets elbowed off the floor by agitated dancers.

Panting, he stumbles towards the bar and asks for water. Peter hands him a bottle and looks at him with raised brows, taking in Edward's mussed hair, sweaty skin and painfully obvious boner.

Edward gulps the water down and feels a hand on his arm.

Looking down, he sees Bella blinking up at him.

"You 'kay?" she shouts.

Edward nods, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Charlotte stumbles to the bar and orders a round of shots. Bella immediately grabs one, tapping it against Charlotte's before watching her friend down it in one gulp.

Bella fails at drinking it one gulp and ends up coughing and sputtering. Edward pats her back in concern, but that concern diminishes when she doubles over in laughter.

Bending at the waist and laughing hard, Bella has a wardrobe malfunction.

Her right breast pops out of the dress.

Edward's eyes widen and he meets Charlotte's gaze, who glances down at Bella's chest.

"Titty!" Charlotte screeches in joy, laughing hysterically and clapping her hands.

Thankfully, Bella is facing the bar and no one can see but Peter, who stares wide-eyed.

"Shit," Edward mutters.

Without thinking about it, and trying very hard to ignore the now painful erection straining against his jeans, he pulls Bella towards him so that he looks like he's hugging her.

Bella's face is pressed into his chest and he reaches down between them, grabbing the top of her strapless dress and yanking it upwards so that her breast pops in again. He tries not to think about how his fingers graze against the soft skin of her cleavage.

Bella mumbles something into his chest and her arms tighten around him. Edward leans down, putting his mouth close to her ear.

"Don't feel good, E'ward," she slurs.

"I think it's time to go," he replies, though she doesn't hear him.

"We're gonna go!" he shouts to Charlotte, who is downing another shot. She gives him the thumbs up and he leans across the bar to talk to Peter, evidently the only other sober person in the room.

"I'm going to take her to my place," he says loudly. "It's closer. Make sure the others know. I'll bring her back to campus tomorrow." Peter eyes him for a second, as though seeing if he can be trusted, before nodding.

After getting another water bottle for Bella, one she will need after she inevitably pukes, Edward tugs her towards the exit.

The cool blast of nighttime air feels like absolute heaven. The breeze is chilly, and Bella shudders as they begin to walk away from the bar.

"Is cold," Bella slurs, stumbling next to Edward. He puts and arm around her and pulls her close. "That was sooooo fun."

"How are you feeling?" Edward asks.

"Icky," she replies. "Like… like… I'm gonna puke errywhere! Like this." She makes gagging noises to dramatize what she means.

"Please notify me before that happens, all right?"

"Mmkay. Hey, E'ward?"

"Yes?"

She sighs and leans into him, sniffing his armpit. "You smell good. Like… hardwood floors."

"Hardwood floors?"

"Uh huh."

"I do not know how to respond to that."

"Wait." Bella says it urgently, like there's an important matter on her mind. "Stop. Right now. Stop."

Edward stops and stares at her. "What's wrong?"

Bella huffs in irritation and looks up at him. Her eyes are shiny with intoxication, her cheeks darker than usual. Her lips are forming the poutiest frown he's ever seen. For the second time that night, he wants to kiss her.

"I just…" Bella trails off, groaning and rubbing her eyes. Her makeup smudges slightly. "You with your face." She reaches up and takes his face in both her hands, squeezing tightly.

Edward winces. "What's wrong with my face?" The words come out muddled and through a puckered mouth, thanks to Bella's painful grip.

"Nothing!" she cries dramatically, letting go of him. "That's the problem, E'ward!"

"I'm not following…."

"You are following me, you stalker man you," she says laughs. She stumbles slightly, and Edward helps her regain her balance.

"Notifynotifynotifynotify!" Bella suddenly groans and stumbles back against the brick wall of a drug store.

Edward is immediately at her side, steadying her in case she topples over.

They wait, but the vomit never comes.

Bella leans her head against the wall, her forehead shimmering with sweat.

"False alarm," she mumbles tiredly. "Ughhhh."

"Let's get you to the car." Edward begins to pull her away, but she stops him.

"Don't wanna walk no more," she says.

"It's only another block."

"My feet hurt. I think I have athletic feet."

"Athlete's foot?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Not likely. I'll carry you."

Bella stares at him, and Edward hates how her drunken eyes mask her emotions.

"'Kay." Bella kicks off her shoes and Edward picks them up before taking a deep breath and lifting her into his arms.

Bella yelps in surprise and then giggles, a sound that never fails to make him smile.

She is surprisingly light, but Edward is thankful that the muscles in his arms are stronger than when he was in high school. He walks a few steps before Bella starts singing. The words are familiar from a song that was playing in the bar, but she slurs them so badly that he can't make out a proper sentence.

Bella reaches up and presses her fingers to his lips. She continues to hum and tap out a rhythm against his mouth, and he kisses her fingers so softly that she doesn't notice.

"You got nice lips, E'ward," she says.

"Thank you," he mumbles against her touch. His lips tingle.

"Mmmm," Bella hums in contentment and begins to poke and prod Edward's mouth. Her finger accidentally slips into his mouth and she giggles. "Wet."

Edward clears his throats and moves his head so that her hand falls away. She puts it back.

"'Member that time you kissed me?" she asks. "On the hill in the park?"

Edward glances forward to where he can see his Volvo parked. He's concerned as to where she's going with this.

"I liked it," she whispers.

Edward swallows, not knowing what to say.

"Wanna know a secret?" she continues.

"Of course."

Bella blinks sleepily and lowers her voice to an even quieter whisper when she says, "'Member when I told you 'bout Ben and when he saw me when I touched myself in my room that day?"

"Fuck."

"I was thinking about you."

Edward stops walking and looks down at her. His arms ache. His chest aches. Worst of all, his hard-on aches in the most torturous of ways.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks her softly.

Bella stares up at him as they stand there in the middle of the sidewalk at nearly three in the morning, the town silent around them. Edward's heart pounds and Bella's breath is on his face, pungent of alcohol but warm on his skin.

"There's a bird in my chest," Bella mutters.

"What?"

"She's going craaazy."

Then, in a movement so quick that he doesn't see it coming, Bella grabs Edward's face in her hands and slams her lips against his.

Hard.

He nearly drops her.

It takes a moment for him to realize what's happening. Her kiss is wild and messy, her teeth scraping against his and her lips violently, passionately attacking his. His lips feel bruised and will probably be swollen the next day, but it doesn't matter because Bella is kissing him.

Bella is kissing him and he can't think. He can't breathe.

He can only kiss her back.

Edward parts his lips and groans against Bella's mouth, her mouth completely overwhelming him. Her lips are warm and wet and tainted only by the taste of alcohol, so strong on her tongue.

His heart pounds and the blood pulses through his veins, fast and hard. He lets in a gasp of air, and Bella pulls away, staring at him like she doesn't know what she's just done.

"Oh no…" she says.

Edward shakes his head, panting. "Don't-"

That's all he's able to say before she vomits on the both of them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yeah, that just happened. I probably would not want to wake up as Bella the next morning.

_Wild Thing _is a sparkly burgundy by Essie; it is also a metallic red by China Glaze.

Since hyperlinks are working on profiles again, I'm going to put up some visuals for the story. Look out for them!

See you next time!

xo


	21. Prelude to a Kiss

**A/N:** I am forever appreciative of the love this story receives, whether you added this to your alerts on Day 1 or last night! [insert heart here]

Ugh, these women. I don't know what I'd do without their [wonderfully constructive] criticism: **Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove. **

It's been a long time coming, you guys. Thanks for sticking with me thus far. Enjoy! ;)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21: Prelude to a Kiss<strong>

The first thing Bella becomes aware of is the fact that someone is repeatedly hitting her in the head with a hammer.

She groans, rolling onto her back and putting both hands on her head, willing the pounding to stop. Her throat has never felt so dry and the sunlight filtering in through the windows seems much brighter than usual. The light manages to pierce through her eyelids, intensifying the headache by a tenfold.

Bella swallows, but it's a fruitless effort. The dehydration burns her throat, torturing her as she forces herself into a sitting position.

She tries to open her eyes, but the room spins and the light is too much. Groaning again, she falls backwards, burying her face in her pillow.

Until she realizes that this is not her pillow.

Her eyes fly open and she ignores how they burn as she looks around, panic welling up in her chest at the sight of the very unfamiliar room.

Bits and pieces of what happened the night before flash through her head; music, drinking, dancing, laughter, and Edward.

So much of Edward.

His scent assaults her senses all at once, and Bella realizes that this must be his bed. With the realization come many incriminating thoughts.

_Oh my god, why am I in his bed? Did we do something? Where is he? God, I was so drunk I barely remember anything. Why didn't he take me back to school?_

Bella sits up once more and clutches her head against the vertigo as she looks down at herself. Her heart skips a beat when she sees that she is no longer in her dress, but in a large navy blue t-shirt and basketball shorts.

Heat rushes to her cheeks when it dawns on her that Edward must have had to undress and dress her. _Oh my god, I wasn't even wearing a bra._

The thought feels so wrong, and yet there's something else, aside from the embarrassment, that makes her squirm.

Bella looks around the room, observing her surroundings. She's sitting in an immensely comfy bed, wrapped in the coziest navy blue comforter. The walls are a dull gray and bare, the personality of the room reserved for the two overflowing bookshelves facing the bed. A desk with a laptop and an eccentric-looking swivel chair sit to her left, a closet door stands open next to a massive beanbag chair, and a dresser sits by the door.

She glances to the bedside table and sees the small clutch she carried last night. Right next to it is a half-frozen water bottle, the plastic covered in condensation.

Grabbing it, she revels in the icy coldness of the water as it rushes down her throat. Some of it dribbles down her chin and down to her chest, making her shiver.

Bella wipes her mouth on her hand and grabs her bag, pulling out her phone. After replying to Charlotte's hungover text message and assuring her roommate that she's okay, Bella climbs out of the bed and carefully gets to her feet.

Walking over to the mirror over the dresser, she takes a good look at her appearance.

Her skin looks pasty and the messy ponytail she wore last night is an entirely different kind of messy now. Her eyes are caked with dried mascara and eyeliner, smeared to give her a zombie-like look. She clutches the dresser for balance, watching herself sway on her feet.

Ignoring the terrible pressure on her bladder, she decides to go on the hunt for Edward. She opens the door and peeks out, seeing that she's at the end of a short hallway. There are two other doors, both shut.

Bella steps out into the hallway, the smell of food wafting towards her. It stirs her stomach, mixing in with the anxiety of being in this new place.

In her line of sight, she can see that the hallway opens up into a living room, and she can only see half of the back of a couch and part of a TV.

Bella pauses when she hears male voices, hushed among the clatter of an unseen kitchen.

She recognizes Edward's smooth voice, accompanied by a much deeper, rumbling one.

"… she did," Edward says. "I don't know if it counts, considering…"

"Considering she was wasted?" the deeper voice asks.

Bella cringes._ What the hell did I do last night?_

Unable to eavesdrop for fear of what she'll hear, she bites her lips and coughs so that they'll know she's coming.

Bella steps out into the kitchen, feeling awkward and exposed. Edward and another slightly older man stand across from each other with the kitchen island in between them. Both of their heads whip in her direction.

"Hey," Edward says, moving towards her. He seems to be dressed for work, though he still wears his glasses. "How are you feeling?" He searches her face with concern, a crease forming between his brows.

"I've been-" Her voice comes out raspy and she clears her throat. "I've been better."

"This is Eleazar," Edward says, nodding towards his roommate without taking his eyes off of Bella. "My roommate."

Eleazar smiles a dimpled grin. "It's nice to finally meet you, Bella. Even if the circumstances are a little…"

He trails off and an awkward silence falls upon them, one which Eleazar breaks by loudly clapping his hands together.

"Anyway," he says."I've gotta go see the fiancé. You kids be good, all right?"

He smirks at Edward, who glares at him, before grabbing a pair of car keys and leaving. The door clicks shut, and the two are left alone.

Bella glances around the room, at the large, fairly messy living room and small kitchen. It's fairly obvious that two guys live here.

"You should eat something," Edward says determinedly, walking over to the refrigerator. "Does your head hurt? Did you drink the water I left for you? Do you feel nauseous? Do you want me to make you something? Eggs, bacon, pancakes…"

Bella slowly shuffles over to the stool by the counter and sits down. Her stomach growls violently and she realizes that she's ravenous. "You cook?"

Edward shrugs. "I manage. Cooking is chemistry."

Bella feels something brush against her foot and squeals, jumping in her seat. A gray and white cat gives her a reproachful look and Edward laughs.

"That's Molly," he says, picking the cat up. He holds her up and scratches her head, a small smile on his lips. The sight is endearing and makes Bella smile. "I think I forgot to mention I had her."

Bella opens her mouth to say that she already knew, but then audibly snaps it shut. He doesn't need to know about her Facebook stalking. Edward gives her a questioning look and she feels her cheeks warm.

"What exactly happened last night?" she asks quietly. It's best to get this conversation over with.

Edward lets Molly go and sits on a stool across from Bella. Surprisingly, his ears are turning pink. "You don't remember?"

"Was it that bad?" Bella asks, stomach twisting with dread. Edward blushing, even if it is just his ears, can't be a good sign. As if her sitting here in his clothes isn't bad enough.

"Just tell me what you remember," he hedges.

Bella shakes her head, painstakingly trying to pick out memories. "Lots of drinking, dancing… you danced with me." She says it with surprise.

Edward smiles, just a little. "I did."

Bella rubs her forehead. "Um…" She can't think with Edward staring at her so intensely. His eyes pierce into hers imploringly, willing her to remember something.

"Did I throw up?" she asks. She tugs at the t-shirt she wears. "I remember being outside… Oh, you carried me!" Edward's ears turn pink again. "Oh my god, did I throw up on you?" Her expression is horrified and Edward grimaces.

"You threw up on the both of us…" he says. Bella covers her face with both hands. "But that's good! If you hadn't puked, you'd have woken up nauseous and repulsed by food."

"I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay; it was out of your hands."

"Is Charlotte's dressed completely ruined?"

"It may need repeated dry cleaning, but…"

"Oh, god."

"Hey." Edward reaches across the counter and tugs her hand away from her face. She contritely looks up at him with her head lowered, her cheeks flaming. Edward pulls her hand away but holds onto it. "Relax. I'm sure Charlotte will understand. There is a seventy-five percent chance that everyone ruined some clothing last night."

"I didn't have to go and ruin _yours, _too."

"Accidents happen."

Bella doesn't want to know the answer to her next question. "Was that the only accident?"

Edward looks away, his ears getting even redder, and Bella feels herself blanching.

"Tell me," she says urgently when he doesn't respond.

"You don't remember anything else?" Edward asks. "After we left? When we were outside, when I was carrying you to the car…" His eyes implore her to remember, please, remember, because he doesn't want to say it.

Bella closes her eyes and pulls her hand out of his to rub her temples. Bits and pieces come back to her; she remembers feeling nauseous and stumbling, but Edward was there. He was always there. He picked her up and his face was so close to hers. She remembers singing and she remembers being mesmerized by his mouth…

The memory is a blur and feels almost like a long forgotten dream, but it forms one grainy piece at a time. It's like she's looking at it through a kaleidoscope in her mind, an abstract, distorted collage of images.

She is filled with absolute horror at the recollection of what she'd done. All the blood in her body rushes to her face as her chest tightens with panic.

"I… k-kissed you?" Bella's voice is a small squeak in the silent apartment, her eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. She wants to sink to the ground and melt into the floor, never to be seen or heard from again. "No, I couldn't have… Not like that…."

Edward stares at her, his gaze still piercing through her, and she has never wanted him to lie to her as much as she wants him to lie to her now.

He licks his lips and parts them to speak, but all Bella can think is that she kissed them.

She doesn't know what's worse: that she kissed him while she was drunk or that she barely remembers it.

Bella presses her palms into her cheeks and closes her eyes. "Oh, Jesus."

Edward clears his throat. "Hey."

"I just can't even… oh, god…." She shakes her head, distraught and embarrassed.

Edward reaches forward and pulls her hands away from her face again. Bella squints at him, and is surprised when he smiles gently.

"How many times do I have to tell you that it's okay?" he asks.

Bella grimaces. "Until I believe it."

He's still holding onto her hand, his thumb rubbing up and down her palm. It tingles.

Something about the gesture compels her to be honest.

"It just wasn't supposed to happen like that," she whispers.

Bella looks away, surprising herself when she feels her eyes beginning to sting. _Why does saying that make me want to cry?_

Edward is silent, and she sees the sadness in his eyes.

"Things rarely happen how they are supposed to," he says. "It's even rarer for them to happen exactly how we imagine."

"But _drunk_?" she says exasperatedly. "God, it was probably all gross and smelly."

"On the contrary," Edward says seriously, "The details are inconsequential. It was you, and that's all that mattered. It's all that will ever matter."

Bella stares at him, at the conviction on his face, and her insecurities disappear for the moment.

Edward stands up abruptly, the legs of his stool scraping loudly against the floor. He steps towards the fridge again.

"Food," he says determinedly, though he sounds like he's talking to himself.

Bella's stomach rumbles at the mention of sustenance, and the intensely appealing image of a greasy cheeseburger pops into her head.

"You don't have to cook anything," she assures him. "I'm actually suddenly really craving horribly unhealthy fast food…"

"Copious amounts of fast food it is. We'll go out."

"Don't you have work?" Bella asks, eying his professional garb.

"I've got plenty of time," Edward says, glancing at the digital clock in the stove. "I'm an early riser."

"And I am a wreck," Bella says embarrassedly. She remembers her poor state of dress and her smeared makeup. "Maybe some other time."

"No," Edward says hastily. "You can get cleaned up; I'll get you some more, um, appropriate clothes, and we can go. Don't worry; no one's going to be at Archie's this early on a Saturday."

Bella fidgets, wanting to spend more time with him but also wanting to save herself from further humiliation.

She knows which one she wants a little more, though, and Edward knows what that is.

Without a word, he takes her hand and begins pulling her away. He stops outside a bathroom door, opens it, steps into his bedroom for a moment, and returns with a bundle.

In Bella's arms, he places a thick, navy blue towel and a MGU sweatshirt. "Are the shorts okay, or do you want sweats? I think I have a pair that's small on me."

Bella feels strung tight and electrified, standing so close to him and wearing his clothes. "The shorts are fine."

The fabric of Edward's shirt rubs against her chest as he wordlessly slides past her and into the bathroom.

Immediately, her nipples harden, and she hugs the towels to her, hating herself for not having worn a bra last night.

Edward reaches down and opens a cabinet under the sink, pulling out a toothbrush that's still in the packaging. He delicately places it on top of the sink. "Sometimes Eleazar's fiancé spends the night, and she has this thing about not sharing toothbrushes…." He trails off, awkwardly glancing away before stepping towards her again.

This time, Bella steps aside and lets him pass.

"You can shower, do whatever you want," Edward says, walking backwards towards the living room. "Yell if you need something."

Bella opens her mouth to thank him, but the words don't come quick enough. He's already turned the corner, and the apartment falls silent.

Taking a deep breath, Bella steps into the bathroom and shuts the door, locking it.

The first thing she does is run to the toilet. The pressure on her bladder is painful now, and relieving it feels like absolute heaven.

A minute later, she washes her hands and looks in the mirror. Her cheeks are flushed and her hard nipples are pressing into the fabric of Edward's t-shirt. She reaches up and rubs a thumb across one, watching as the puckered fabric flattens.

Letting out a breath and shaking her head, she turns towards the bathtub. Thoughts of a naked Edward flit through her mind, and she turns away again.

She can't do this. She can't shower in his tub. It's too awkward, too much, and too soon. She's going to combust any second now.

After realizing that she's spent an irrational amount of time measuring a shower on the Awkward Scale, she decides to forget about it. A shower would have to wait until she gets back to campus. It's a good thing she doesn't smell like vomit.

Bella vigorously brushes her teeth, tongue, and washes all traces of makeup from her face. She pats her face dry with Edward's towel and buries her nose in it. It smells like laundry detergent, but it smells like him the most. She changes into the sweatshirt next, loving how it envelopes her and surrounds her with more of his scent.

She can't get enough of it.

After fixing her ponytail, she stares at herself in the mirror and takes a deep breath. _You can do this. It's just Edward._

Feeling a little more confident, she grabs the used towel and the old t-shirt, stepping back into the hallway.

For the second time that morning, she freezes at the sound of two voices.

This time, there's a female voice.

Bella's stomach twists as she strains her ears, listening to the unfamiliar voice. It's high-pitched and angry, though she keeps her voice down. Nevertheless, the words echo.

"… doing it again," the female voice says. "After everything we went through to fix you-"

"I didn't need fixing," Edward says, his voice tense. "I wasn't broken, Irina."

_Irina? _The uncomfortable feeling in Bella's stomach grows stronger. Whereas she didn't want to eavesdrop on Eleazar and Edward that morning, she can't find it in herself to move away from this female voice.

"You know what I mean," Irina states. "I'll be damned if I let _anyone_ do that to you again. Especially the girl who started it in the first place…"

_They have to be talking about me,_ Bella realizes with a sick feeling.

"I don't need you to protect me."

"I'm not trying to!"

"Oh, so you _didn't_ have preventative intentions by coming here and telling me what a big mistake I'm making?"

"All I'm saying is for you to be careful," Irina says, using a gentler tone now. "Think about this."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Bella's never heard Edward sound so angry, and she's certainly never heard Edward speak to a woman this way. She can sense that there's a history between the two, and the thought makes her queasy.

"I'm not," Irina insists. "Edward…" She trails off with a sigh. "You know how I feel about her. You can't trust her."

"You don't know her."

Bella's heard enough. She reaches over and shuts the bathroom door, the click echoing down the hallway and alerting them of her presence. Immediately, their voices fall silent.

Bella turns and walks back into Edward's bedroom, her appetite gone. She drops the towel into a hamper in the corner and then hesitates, not knowing what to do. She doesn't want to go out there, but she can't hide out in Edward's room. She has to pretend as though she hasn't heard anything.

Bella doesn't know how much Irina knows about her history with Edward, but something in her wants to prove that she's not a horrible person.

Bella slowly walks out of the bedroom, and Irina and Edward's voices have lowered into whispers.

When Bella steps into the kitchen, she witnesses the two having an intense stare down. Edward is rigid, his hands clenched into fists, and Irina has her arms crossed stubbornly.

Bella notices immediately how pretty Irina is. Her platinum blond hair is straight and silky, falling down her back, and her gray eyes are wide and, even in their anger, stunning.

Irina's head snaps towards Bella and her face goes blank. Her fiery eyes give Bella the onceover, and Bella tries not to squirm under her gaze. Irina raises her brows at Edward's clothing on Bella and then turns her gaze back to Edward.

"Nice," she states, though the word is drenched in sarcasm.

"Irina," Edward warns. He gives her a look before walking over to Bella. "You look better. Do you feel okay?"

Bella nods, unable to take her eyes off the new person in the room. Irina's sharp eyes flit between the two of them before landing on Bella. For the briefest of seconds, Bella can see hate in her eyes. No one has ever looked at her like that.

"You should go," Edward says, and Bella looks at him in surprise. However, his eyes are on Irina.

"Call me when you're thinking clearly," Irina tells him. She doesn't spare Bella another glance before walking out the door.

"So, how much did you hear?" Edward asks immediately, and Bella looks at him, ready to lie. However, she knows there's no point in denying anything. He can read her easily.

"The worst part, I guess," Bella says. She crosses her arms over her stomach and looks down.

"Don't." Edward takes her arms and unfolds them. "You always do that when you feel insecure. Don't let her make you feel like that."

"How much does she know?" Bella asks hesitantly. "About us?"

Edward looks away, still holding onto her arms. His hands slide from her elbows to her wrists, and he holds them. She can almost feel the heat of his touch through the thick cotton of the sweatshirt, and she wonders how he can manage to touch her so easily.

"She knows most of it," Edward says. "She and Eleazar were the first people I met when I started college, and they were curious as to why I was so… reclusive. Over time, they got the story out of me…" He opens his mouth to say more, but hesitates. "Unfortunately, I painted a slightly… _darker _picture of our relationship. That's the image Irina has of you. I'm sorry."

Bella feels the hurt stab through her. Edward made her sound like a bad person?

Edward lifts her chin, green pools of regret staring back at her. "I really am sorry. I was still… recovering. They helped me. I'm stronger because of them."

Bella nods, envy adding to the hurt. While Edward had friends to help him through the pain, she had no one. She had no new friends, no one to turn to. All she had were the painful memories and the regret, intensified bythe agony of his sudden departure. She had to grow on her own, force herself to move on, while he had help.

Perhaps that was her punishment.

She wants to ask about his history with Irina, but she knows it's none of her business. Still, he can see the question in her eyes.

"What?" he asks. He's holding her hands now, and suddenly his grip feels too restraining.

Bella gently lets go of his hands and folds her arms over her stomach again. "Were you and Irina…" She trails off, hoping he'll get the gist of her question.

Edward blinks at her, a look of discomfort crossing his face. "I wasn't aware that it mattered."

Another stab of hurt and jealousy pulses through her, and she hates that such information affects her this way. She wasn't in his life at that point. It _shouldn't_ matter.

Still, she can't deny that it hurts to think about Edward finding comfort in another girl, especially considering she had been the reason behind his pain.

Edward sighs in frustration before sitting down on the arm of the couch, facing her. "Bella. It's irrelevant. It's in the past; I'd prefer we kept it there."

"It's not irrelevant." The hurt feelings begin to manifest themselves. She knows she's adding to the sudden tension between them, but she can't help it. "It's not, Edward. I'd been all alone after that day, and you'd had your friends and distractions… "

"So, what?" Edward asks confusedly. "You're hurt because I didn't have it as hard as you?" His discomfort is palpable, and Bella can feel it adding to hers. She suddenly regrets being so honest.

"It's not that," she argues, but it's exactly that.

"Then what is it?" he asks. "Because without them, I can think of several situations in which the possibility of getting over you was slim to none. I may not have provided you with excruciating details, but trust me, Bella… I _needed _Eleazar and Irina. More than I'd ever care to admit."

His brows are furrowed in desolation and he can't look at her. He directs his gaze towards Molly, who sits contentedly licking her paw.

"Irina and I had something," he adds after a moment. "It's not as big of a deal as you're undoubtedly making it in your head, but…"

Bella shakes her head, feeling guilty. "You don't have to justify it."

Edward looks at her again, and his eyes burn with so much emotion that her breathing hitches. "Then don't make me feel like I do." She's never seen him this serious. He suddenly looks several years older than he is, aged and exhausted.

"I was just being honest," Bella says. "I didn't mean to upset you. You never mentioned being with anyone else, so I wondered."

"I never asked you if you'd been with anyone after Cheney, either," Edward says with a shrug that's too stuff to be nonchalant. "You never mentioned it, so I didn't think it was relevant to where we are now. Besides…" He trails off, avoiding her gaze again. "I didn't think it was any of my business."

Bella stays quiet, absorbing his words with a new twinge of guilt. Maybe it isn't any of her business if he was with Irina. All that matters is that he isn't anymore. It shouldn't matter to her as much as it does, and she _hates _that it does.

She hates that it makes her feel so insecure and that it makes her dislike Irina and that it makes her envy Edward for the life he had without her, despite the fact that he's already admitted to not having it easy.

She doesn't notice Edward staring at her, watching as the different emotions flash across her face. However, the twitch of her eyebrows and the smallest of frowns is no match to what she's feeling on the inside.

All of those feelings, all that envy and shame and guilt and insecurity mixes together into a tornado of emotion, growing larger and stronger the more she thinks about it. Her emotions are reaching a crescendo, all the deafening thoughts in her head beginning to overwhelm her.

Edward shakes his head, staring at her in bafflement. "Why are you still thinking about it? Why are you taking this so personally?"

She can't stand the way he looks at her.

He looks at her like she's a frustrating puzzle he can't solve, a puzzle that's so complicated that he doesn't even want to bother anymore. It's like he's seconds away from tossing it in the trash, seconds away from giving up.

Bella hates that she's caused that expression, and his questions ring through her head like the world's loudest bell.

_Why are you still thinking about it?_

_ Why are you taking this so personally? _

_Why?_

_Why?_

She desperately wants him to understand…

… so she snaps.

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, OKAY?"

She practically screams the words, shouts them at him like an accusation, verbally slapping him across the face and stunning him into silence.

Immediately, Bella clamps a hand over her mouth. This is not how it was supposed to be said, not even close to how she imagined. Not like this. Not when they're arguing.

Edward stares at her like he did that day in the library: the first time after three years, the first time after so much anguish and guilt and regret.

His brows furrow, his lips part, and he blinks at her. Bella can do nothing but stare back at him as her confession hangs in the air. The possible consequences of what she's just said begin to eat away at her. Her words are either going to ruin everything or make things just as she's always wanted them to be.

They stare at each other for what feels like the longest time. Eons, maybe. Edward swallows and Bella's watches worriedly, her mind struggling to find the right words. Something. Anything would be better than this deafening silence.

Edward is the first to move.

Without moving from his spot on the arm of the couch, he slowly reaches out and clutches a fistful of Bella's sweatshirt, tugging her towards him. Bella stumbles as he pulls her, and suddenly her cheek is warm from how he cups it in his hand.

With the agonized expression of a deeply broken man, he kisses her.

Slowly and softly, he kisses her like her lips could wither at his touch. Bella inhales deeply, taking his warm breath with her, and feels him awaken her soul. He leads her away from the fog of a deep sleep and ignites her body, the warmth spreading from her mouth to the tips of her toes.

Bella holds onto him for dear life, her fumbling fingers grasping at first his sleeves, then his broad shoulders before winding their way into his hair.

She deepens the kiss, tears springing to her eyes at how it makes her feel, how_ he_ makes her feel. She's melted in his arms and she doesn't ever want to move from this spot, from this position, from the warm, floating feeling she gets when he kisses her like this.

Edward pulls away first, panting, resting his forehead against hers. His lips glisten, as do hers, and the taste of him is strong on her tongue.

Edward's hand is on the back of her neck, his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him.

She's tasted love in his kiss.

He doesn't have to say the words back; he's shown her, and she can see it so visibly in the warmth of his eyes.

Bella swallows and kisses him again, because he is a drug she can't stop taking. They breathe each other in again and she holds him tighter, but he's not close enough. He's never close enough.

Her fingers tighten in his hair, clutching them painfully, and Edward groans, pulling her impossibly closer. His fingers slip under the back of her sweatshirt, his skin meeting the bare skin of her back, and his touch is cold on her overheated skin.

Bella is pressed in between his legs, and she is strongly aware of this. Edward's thighs hold her legs in place, because it's as though he knows she's having trouble standing up. Her lips move furiously against his, and she can't remember ever kissing anyone like this.

She can't remember anything at all. All she knows is that she wants him. She wants him in ways she's ignored for so, so long. Kissing him like this isn't quenching her thirst for him. It's not sating this need deep down inside of her, not extinguishing this flame that began to burn the second he kissed her.

Edward pulls back again, inhaling sharply before choking out a laugh. "So much for going slow, huh?"

Bella laughs, breathing heavily with tears springing to her eyes. Embarrassed, she buries her face in his neck. She could never adequately express how she feels in this moment.

She could burst with joy and relief, because all it took was a kiss, a _real _kiss to mend her. Not the drunken mess of the night before, or the passionate yet poorly timed kiss of their high school years.

"That's all in the past," Edward suddenly mumbles. His voice is rough. "I'd really like it to stay there, along with everything else." He doesn't need to elaborate on what "everything else" is.

They hold each other for a while, holding on to the moment, too.

Because this moment, regardless of how temporary it is, has momentarily fixed everything that felt broken.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Shouty caps FTW! Do they get the point across, or what? :)

I added some visuals for the story on my profile. Go click things if you want. I will probably be adding more along the way.

_Prelude to a Kiss_ (how cute is that?) is a pink-toned beige by ORLY. I'm adding it my list of "OMG, Nim, You Are Too Broke To Spend Eight Bucks On This".

See you next time!

xo


	22. Frisky

**A/N:** Rawr. Hi. Don't look at me like that, okay? I know. It's been over a month. The last few weeks of summer became unexpectedly busy and then I got DROWNED in schoolwork when the semester started. I gotta prioritize. School comes first. Everything has calmed down now, so that's good! I'm ready to get this show back on the road. Thank you for waiting so patiently.

As usual, **Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove** get all the credit for making this pretty and for kicking me off Twitter/Tumblr/Pinterest so that I could focus on fighting the writer's block.

I missed you guys! I hope this chapter makes up for the wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22: Frisky<strong>

Edward's feet pound against the pavement, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. Music blasts through his ear buds, matching the rhythm of his sneakers as he propels himself down the sidewalk. The shops he's visited countless times are a blur around him, merely anonymous streaks of color passing in his periphery.

He's too lost in the ecstasy of running to pay attention to his surroundings. He's too lost to the October wind that whips against his face, too lost to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and much too lost in his thoughts of Bella.

Always thoughts of Bella.

She said she loved him.

No, she'd shouted it. She'd hurled the confession from her lips, and all he could do in that moment was feel the impact of her words, feel them hit him hard.

He'd wanted to say it back, wanted to tell her that he loved her too, but it didn't feel like enough.

'Love' was such a simple word. It could never adequately describe the depths of what he felt for her.

Instead, he had kissed her. The emotions raging through him at her declaration allowed for that action alone, and that's exactly what he did.

What had followed the rekindling of their old flame were whispered reassurances, more kisses, and lighthearted jokes about their failed attempt to go at a slow and steady pace.

It had happened less than a week ago, but Bella is so vivid in his memory that he feels as though only minutes have passed.

Edward yanks the ear buds out of his ears and pauses outside his apartment building, bending over with his hands on his knees. He catches his breath, his heart pounding furiously as sweat drips down his face.

He's walking inside when his phone buzzes. Glancing at it, he sighs when he sees that it's Irina.

He hasn't spoken to her since the incident in his apartment, and her frequent calls and text messages have gone ignored. After the way she treated Bella, he has no desire to listen to her half-hearted apologies.

Edward shakes Irina from his mind as he enters his bedroom, stripping out of the sweaty clothing. He writes Bella a quick text, telling her he'll be on campus in about forty-five minutes.

He's filled with an uncontrollable excitement at the prospect of seeing her again. Despite the fact that they've seen each other numerous times, high school included, the newness of their most recent meetings has been difficult to ignore.

To finally be able to truly be with each other, openly and freely, is incredibly thrilling.

Edward hops into the shower to wash the jog off of him, his muscles aching in his most favorite way. As the water pours down his skin, his mind inevitably wanders down the path of Bella.

This time he thinks about her body.

Long gone are the guilty, dirty feelings associated with masturbating to thoughts of her. In high school, such thoughts about his best friend had made him feel incredibly crude.

But now, with her being his girlfriend, it didn't feel so bad anymore.

Especially now that he knew she thought about him, too. He can't help but smile, remembering her drunken confession.

Edward reaches down and strokes himself as memories from the night before begin to resurface. They'd gone to see a movie in town, and although they didn't kiss like other couples, there was not a moment in which they weren't touching each other.

On the way back, Edward had pulled up outside of Bella's dorm and kissed her goodbye. That kiss had turned into a full on make out session, one in which Edward's hands managed to slip under her shirt.

He thinks about how the skin of her stomach had felt so soft against his fingers, so soft that he couldn't stop touching it. He didn't stop touching it, not until Bella giggled against his lips and told him that it tickled.

His hands had wandered further up, towards her bra, and he had tentatively stroked the curve under the wire of her bra, a smile against his fingers.

Cars behind him had honked at that point, and they'd had to pry themselves away from each other.

However, that's not what Edward thinks about as he runs his hand up and down his shaft. With his eyes closed and one hand braced on the tile wall, he imagines what he would have done if they hadn't been interrupted, if she hadn't been ticklish.

He imagines pushing his hands under her bra, feeling her breasts, kissing her neck instead of her lips, and unbuckling their seatbelts and reclining her seat so that he could place himself on top of her. He imagines taking her shirt and bra off, seeing her breasts and how her nipples would be hard for him, how he'd run his thumbs over them and hear her whimper and moan…

As he gets closer to the edge, Edward's fantasy skips over the details of foreplay and gets right to the nitty gritty. There's sweat, naked bodies, fogged windows, maniacal thrusting and sounds and movements that rock the car for everyone to see.

With a groan and shudder, Edward opens his eyes, panting as the water rushes over him and his heart slams against his chest.

He has to see her.

* * *

><p>The second Edward steps onto Bella's floor, he can hear Jacob's booming laughter filter down the hall. A surge of annoyance passes through him as he trudges over to Bella's dorm room, the door of which is slightly ajar.<p>

He knocks before pushing the door open, seeing Bella, Jacob, and Charlotte laughing. Jacob sits on a desk chair in between the two girls, though he's much too close to Bella for Edward's liking.

"You're here," Bella says, sitting up straight. He loves how her eyes light up when she sees him. He wonders if he looks the same, if the giddy warmth inside of him is apparent on his face.

"I said I'd be," he responds, an uncontrollable grin spreading across his face.

Jacob and Charlotte exchange a glance. "Hey, Jake, didn't you have to show me that thing in your room?"

Jacob gives her a puzzled look before rolling his eyes. "Sure. Come on, pipsqueak."

He gets to his feet and barely looks at Edward as he pushes past him in the small space.

"We're meeting the others at Sadie's later," Charlotte informs them as she walks backwards towards the door. "Free tacos! Be there around noon-ish, okay? If you don't have any other exciting plans, that is."

"Speaking of plans," Jacob interjects. "Let me know about that thing on Saturday, Bella."

Bella nods silently, giving him a polite smile, and he winks before shutting the door behind him.

Edward looks at her, trying to look more curious than annoyed. "What was that about?"

Bella shrugs, standing up and adjusting things on her desk. "He wants me to go to this concert thing with him." She smiles and walks over to him, curling her arms around his torso and burying her nose in his chest.

Instinctively, Edward wraps his arms around her, never tiring of holding her like this. The curve of his arms fit perfectly with the width of her back, a fact that makes holding her to him even better.

"Mmm, you smell like autumn," Bella says. She nuzzles her cheek against his sweatshirt and he combs his fingers through her hair, thinking about what she's said.

"So he asked you out when he's already aware that you're with me."

Bella sighs, lifting her head and resting her chin on his chest as she looks up at him. "He said you could come, if that makes you feel any better."

Edward snorts. "Absolutely. The fact that he thought to invite me lessens the level of his stupidity. Now he's less on the imbecilic side and more on the moronic side."

Bella swats at his chest. "Don't be mean. I'm not going to go with him, but he's still my friend."

Edward scowls. "He still has a _Backpfeifengesicht_. That's German for a face that badly needs a punch."

Bella bursts out laughing before shaking her head. "You take him too seriously.'

Edward frowns. "Us. I take _us_ seriously."

She gets that look in her eyes, that wistful look she gets right before she tells him she loves him.

"I really love you," she says, smiling with half her mouth.

Edward sighs, resting his forehead against hers. "You know?"

She nods. "I know."

He walks her backwards until her calves hit the edge of her bed, upon which she promptly collapses. He slips and falls on top of her, catching himself on his arms before he can knock the breath out of her. Still, his knee bangs against hers, painfully and with a loud crack.

"Ow," Bella laughs.

"I had every intention for that to be sexy." Edward grins, staring down at her from the cage of his arms.

"I couldn't tell," Bella chuckles, and he can feel the stupid smile on his face.

"Hey, you're required to be encouraging," he admonishes. "It's in your job description."

"I'm no good at this girlfriend thing," she replies, wrinkling her nose. She says it jokingly, but it's one of those jokes that poorly mask her true feelings.

Edward shakes his head, bumping her nose with his. "You're perfect."

Bella reaches up and pulls his head down, giving him a soft, chaste kiss. He kisses back with fervor, pressing his mouth hard against hers

Her mouth is sweet and her hand is tentative against the side of his face. Her touch feels alien against his skin, but it warms him.

A loud, angry buzz in his pocket reverberates against their bodies and makes the both of them cry out.

"Ohmygod, what is that?" Bella shrieks, jumping.

"I don't- Shit, it's my phone." Edward glances at the screen and groans. "Damn it, Irina."

The mood ruined, he rolls over and falls onto his back, ignoring the call and the impulse to block her number.

"Sorry," he mutters, looking at Bella.

She has a hesitant look on her face, like she wants to say something but is holding back. Edward happens to know exactly what it's about.

"You can just ask, you know," he sighs. There is no use in avoiding this conversation.

"I don't want to offend you. The last time I asked about you and her, you said it was none of my business." Bella sits up, leaning on an elbow and looking down at him. Her hair falls over her shoulder, tickling his cheek.

"But, Edward, it _is_ my business," she adds, her eyes imploring him to understand. "As your… girlfriend," her lips briefly curve into a shy smile at the word, "I need to know. It's not nosiness or curiosity; it's confirmation. I need to know the whole story. What if she confronts me with it?"

Edward stares at her serious expression, at her deeply expressive brown eyes that manage to say so much more than her words.

"You're right," he mutters. He holds his breath before letting it out in one big whoosh of air. "We were never actually a couple. She was extremely… persistent in her advances." He almost laughs at Bella's intense expression. It's like all her energy is directed at listening to him. "I supposed I should just start from the beginning, huh?"

She nods, propping her chin in her hand.

Edward smirks and then closes his eyes like a patient in a therapist's office, going back to the days when he'd first met Irina…

_He'd been a sophomore when they'd met. He had a job at the campus bookstore, and it was a busy Tuesday afternoon at the very beginning of the semester. _

_The store was full of students rushing to buy their textbooks, the majority of them freshmen who had not yet experimented with the joys of internet discounts, and Edward had just finished helping a flustered girl when he turned and almost crashed into someone else._

"_Hi," Irina said, ignoring the fact that her surprising proximity had almost made him fall. "Can you help me? I think you can help me. I mean, you work here, so you have to help me."_

_Her face was flushed and she seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack._

"_Sure," Edward said. "What are you looking for?"_

_Irina shoved a piece of paper at him, nearly giving him a paper cut on his face. "Sorry," she said when he recoiled. "It's just, I have this class in about half an hour, and I __**just **__remembered that the professor said we needed to bring this book with us…"_

"_Well, you certainly waited until the very last minute," Edward said, glancing at the syllabus. He said it politely, though he was thoroughly annoyed._

_A lot used to annoy Edward at that time._

"_It's awful, I know," Irina said. Edward jerked his head in the direction of a different aisle, and she followed. "If I had remembered, I would have ordered it by now. I've just been so caught up in things with my swim team…"_

_She continued to ramble, and Edward wished that she would stop talking. He had no patience for ramblers, no patience for anyone who couldn't see his blatant disinterest in mindless banter._

"_The Elementary Education textbooks were moved," Edward explained. "That's probably why you couldn't find it." He grabbed a textbook and handed it to her._

"_Thanks," Irina said, and she took the book without taking her eyes off of him._

"_Is there anything else?" he asked, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. His gaze repeatedly flitted away from her, but hers remained steady. After a few seconds, he stared back._

_She's pretty, he realized. Conventionally pretty, anyway. Her hair was so pale it was almost white, but it worked on her. Her gray eyes seemed too large for her face, but they were as lovely as her plump lips._

_Despite the fact that he found her attractive, he couldn't help but compare her to Bella._

_He couldn't help but think that, yes, Bella was still the loveliest girl he'd ever seen and no one could quite compare._

"_I'm good, thanks," Irina said distractedly. She finally broke his gaze, shaking her head and smiling before walking away._

_They'd run into each other again early one morning a little over a week later, in one of the cafes on campus. Irina told him that he had actually given her the wrong textbook, and that her vapid professor had embarrassingly called her out on it. Edward had guiltily apologized._

"_I mean, I get it was busy, but you had the syllabus in your hand!" Irina said incredulously. Her tone was a pitch away from being rude, and she could see that. _

"_Sorry," she added, sipping her latte. "I haven't had my coffee. Makes me cranky."_

"_A Saudi Arabian woman can divorce her husband if he doesn't give her coffee," Edward said distractedly. He'd practically mumbled it, verbalizing a random fact for the first time in a while. After all, when you rarely speak to people, you slowly fall out of old conversational habits._

_Irina stared at him. "What?"_

_Edward repeated himself, and Irina laughed. Her laugh was loud and open, completely uninhibited. It made Edward crack a smile, albeit a tiny one._

"_I knew you had a smile in you," she'd said._

_Over time, Edward got to know her as the caffeine-addicted, insanely talkative, incredibly athletic, children-loving feminist. She was also uncomfortably perceptive and fiercely protective of those she cared about. _

_Despite her chattiness and blunt personality, Edward decided that she wasn't so bad. Besides, it wouldn't kill him to make friends._

_Just as long as he didn't get particularly attached. _

_He also realized that he was in no danger of falling for Irina. She just wasn't his type. Therefore, it would be perfectly safe to be around her, and the fact that he actually enjoyed her company was a bonus._

_It was Irina who had told him about the apartment for rent when he complained about how loud the dorms were and how incompetent his roommate was. She lived on the same floor as Eleazar and encouraged him to check it out._

_Irina's persistence was eventually what caused Edward to come out of his shell. It was her most annoying, yet affective quality, and Edward couldn't help but credit her for it. _

_However, the more Edward came out of his shell, the more confident Irina's advances became._

"_You should cut your hair," she'd said one day. They'd been hanging out in the library, attempting to study for an exam. _

_Irina had reached over and brushed the hair off his forehead, an action that made Edward tense. He didn't know if she could tell he was uncomfortable. If she did, she ignored it._

_She continued to mess with his hair, pushing it this way and that, eyes narrowed in contemplation._

_Finally, unable to take it anymore, Edward gently took hold of her wrist and pulled it away from his head._

"_My mother worries about my hair enough for the both of us, I assure you," he'd said. "She's a hairstylist."_

_He'd let go of her wrist, but Irina had taken hold of his hand. "Really?"_

"_Yes." He'd pushed his glasses up as an excuse to extract his hand from hers._

"_I don't know, Edward," she'd muttered, still staring at his hair. "You have such a handsome face. All that hair just… overpowers your features."_

_Edward had somehow ended up in a barber shop one week later._

_Irina had also created his Facebook account for him, insisting in the importance of social networking._

_After Edward mentioned his interest in getting a pet, she'd encouraged him to get a cat. She had two._

_For her birthday, she'd dragged him along to some bar with her friends from the swim team. Edward had never had so many girls flirt with him at the same time. It was an incredible confidence booster. _

_Afterwards, when they'd gotten home to their apartments and Edward politely walked her to her door, she kissed him._

_It had happened quickly. They'd stopped outside her door, Irina turned to face him, Edward had opened his mouth to say goodbye, and she had reached up on her tiptoes and pecked him on the mouth._

_He'd stared at her, stunned, an array of emotions coursing through him. It took a while for the shock to wear off, and Irina took advantage of his silence._

_Smiling, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him again. _

_It was an okay kiss, Edward thought. It was nice, but it didn't feel __**right. **_

"_You need to relax," Irina had whispered in his ear. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, then back up again. "You're so tense all the time."_

"_Irina…" Edward licked his lips, and they were sticky from her lip gloss. He hated the artificial strawberry taste. "I don't…"_

"_I know you think you don't like me like that," she'd said. "But that's because you're scared. You can't hold back forever."_

_She reached up and tried to kiss him again, but Edward pulled away and stepped backward. "No. I can't." He began walking backwards down the hall, towards his own apartment._

_He'd expected Irina to look hurt, but she only looked disappointed, like she'd been expected his reaction._

"_Just try," she'd called after him, staring desolately. "For yourself."_

_They'd never been quite the same after that, and Edward had never tried again. _

_Not with Irina, nor with anyone else._

Having stared at the ceiling through the entirety of his recollection, the glance Edward throws at Bella is wary at best.

Her lips are parted in a perpetual state of surprise, and her eyes are far-off and distant.

"Wow," she whispers. "I'm not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." He touches her because he can't _not. _His fingers dance along her collarbones, grazing back and forth.

Bella shakes her head. "She practically forced herself on you."

Edward laughs, a sound that breaks the tension. "I wouldn't put it like that. She was persistent, yes."

"Is she still like that?" Bella asks hesitantly. She looks afraid to hear his answer.

"No. She's backed off, and she has a boyfriend now. She's still fairly protective of me, though."

"She wants to protect you from me."

Bella's sorrowful tone of voice is heartbreaking. Edward hates the frown on her lips so he kisses her. Just once, chastely, but when it doesn't go away, he does it again.

And again and again and again, until she's giggling and he's the one leaning over her.

"What are you doing?" Bella laughs as he peppers her face with kisses.

"Lowering your… blood pressure…. and…. optimizing your…. immune response," Edward tells her in between kisses, loving the sound of her laughter.

"Is that what slobbering all over me does?" she protests halfheartedly. She tries to push him away, but he pins her so that she's powerless against his loving assault.

The way she squirms underneath him causes a situation to rise in his pants. In fact, her movements only add friction to an extremely sensitive spot.

"No, that's what kissing does," Edward corrects. He ceases his assault to stare at her flushed, smiling face. Her chest heaves as he breathes heavily, and his eyes are drawn to it for longer than would be polite.

He looks at her face again, at the sheer joy in her eyes, and he's suddenly rendered speechless.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs, "and I love you. The words don't feel strong enough, but I mean it. I love you."

Bella swallows and stares up at him. "I can't believe I never truly saw you," she says sadly. "All that time…" She scrapes her teeth against her lower lip and Edward watches it bloom white before turning into a darker pink.

Edward shakes his head, the past the least of his worries at the moment.

He kisses her feverishly and Bella returns the favor, her lips latching onto him with renewed energy.

In moments like this, when she kisses him like she won't ever get another chance, Edward loses himself. He turns into a starving man, his lips ravaging her mouth and chin and neck and every inch of visible skin.

The thing that drives him the craziest is the sounds she makes. The way she initially bites her lip to suppress her sounds, but then surrenders to them a few minutes later.

She always starts out with small gasps, her lips parting for delicate inhalations of air as his lips graze the skin under her chin. Edward breathes in her scent, the smell of almonds like her body wash, feeling her pulse pound against his lips.

One of her hands tangles itself in his hair while the other clutches the back of his shirt in a tight fist.

His own hands follow an unfamiliar path, up her jean clad leg, over her hip, under her shirt and across the skin of her stomach.

"Mmmm… wait," Bella pants, and Edward pulls himself away, worried that he's gone too far. "I just need to catch my breath."

"Too fast?" he asks. He moves to roll away from her, but she grabs his arm.

"No, no," she assures him. "Just give me a second."

After a moment, her breathings slows and she reaches up to run her hand through his hair. Edward shudders at the feeling, closing his eyes as warmth spreads from his scalp straight down to his toes.

Edward is practically shaking from the effort of holding still. All he wants to do is explore every inch of her skin. His jeans are uncomfortably tight in the front, the ache in his groin getting worse the more he thinks about it.

When he opens his eyes, the tender look on Bella's face almost destroys him.

"Please," he swallows hard, and then whispers desperately, "let me touch you."

Bella's eyes widen and her lips part, taken aback by the sudden passion in his demeanor. He thinks she's going to ask him to back off, but he holds onto a tiny sliver of hope and doesn't move.

That hope pulls through when she takes a deep breath before taking his hand, holding his gaze as she places it on her left breast.

Edward's heart beats erratically as he swallows, his fingers twitching against the fabric covering her breast. He presses down ever so slightly, feeling her flesh give under his hand. He squeezes gently, and Bella closes her eyes, inhaling sharply.

He has to feel her.

Bella seems startled when he shoves his hands under her shirt, and it takes everything in him just to slow down. Trembling with the excitement, he pushes her shirt up until her stomach is exposed to his lips.

He runs his nose from her navel to where her shirt is bunched up under her bra. Bella's body shakes, and he reigns in his impulses.

"Okay?" he asks hoarsely.

"Mmm hmm."

Edward looks up to see her face and her cheeks are pink, her lips parted.

But what he sees in her eyes is what blows him away.

Her brown eyes are shining with excitement, leveling him with lust and love and an intriguing fearlessness.

Nevertheless, her hand quivers as she leads his palm back to where she put it before, but this time she places it right on her bra. He can feel the top of her breast against his fingers, and he fondles it gently.

It's not enough.

"Let me," he whispers, and she nods.

A moment later, her shirt is off and he's staring at her in a coral colored bra, a gorgeous contrast to her creamy skin.

He straddles her, one arm on the bed and the other caressing the soft, pale skin of her breasts.

Unexpectedly, Bella reaches up and slides her hand under Edward's sweatshirt, her fingers soft against the skin of his chest. Her touch makes him groan and shudder.

It's an infinitesimal movement, but he almost combusts when Bella's pelvis thrusts upward involuntarily. Had their bodies not been pressed together, he may not have felt it. He pushes back ever so slightly, providing the tiniest, most torturous bit of the friction they both yearn for.

He wants her. It's the only thing on his mind, the only thing that matters.

Suddenly, the world seems to revolve around Bella and all the things he wants to do to her right now. All the ways he wants to worship her, touch her, kiss her, feel every inch of her skin with every inch of his.

It's the only thing he wants in this moment…

Until someone in the hallway lets out a loud, obnoxious guffaw. There's the boom of a body hitting the floor, followed by rambunctious laughter.

"You broke my spleen, man!" cries a male voice.

The voices fade and the moment is gone.

Bella blinks as though she's been in a trance the entire time. She looks down at herself, her cheeks blooming with red, before grabbing her shirt.

Edward climbs off of her and sits up, rubbing his face.

"Not like this," he says, voice gruff. He clears his throat, trying not to feel too embarrassed about how carried away they got. "Not here, in a decrepit dorm room where any delinquent can just walk in."

Bella sits up and smoothes her messy hair down.

"I forgot where we were," she says in a dazed voice. She looks at him. "I get so lost in you. This might sound stupid, but I think I feel a little high." She adds a shy smile that makes Edward want to ravage her all over again.

He nods, the truth of her statement resonating with him on a deeper level than even he can understand. "Me too. It's supposed to happen with love. The ventral tegmental area in your brain floods the caudate nucleus with dopamine, and the more dopamine, the higher you feel. It's actually the same with cocaine."

Bella laughs, tugging at the hem of her shirt. "So we might as well be on crack, huh?"

Her phone buzzes on her desk, and they both jump, still on edge. Edward hands it to her, the word 'Mom' flashing on the screen.

"Shoot, I was supposed to call her," Bella mumbles.

Edward stands up and tries to adjust himself discreetly. Bella answers the phone the same time she catches him and blushes guiltily. Edward chuckles and shrugs, mentally pleading with his boner to disappear.

"Hey, Mom," Bella says, beginning to pace. To give her the illusion of privacy, Edward turns his back and looks at the things on her desk.

Compared to Charlotte's cluttered space, Bella's desk looks barren, regardless of the several books and items she has on top of it.

One book in particular, a purple, suede-bound journal, catches his eye.

It's the journal she showed to him all those years ago, the one he read in her room the night of the Fall Dance. It was the first night they'd connected in any way, the night she opened up to him and showed that she was as lovely on the inside as she was on the out.

He wants to see if she's written anything new, but he doesn't want to pry. Turning around, he sees that Bella is still pacing. When she catches his eyes, he motions towards the journal. After a moment, she nods.

Edward picks the journal up, noticing how it looks smaller than he remembered. He runs his hand over the soft cover before opening it to a random page, seeing words he's never seen before.

Much of what Bella's written has been crossed out and rewritten in messy scrawl, the writing in all different colors of gel pen. Flipping through it and putting his speed-reading skills to good use, he finds himself drawn into her literary voice.

He sits on the edge of her bed and pours over the pages, although he doesn't understand much of what she's written about. A lot of it is fictional, seemingly random character names and plot points and outlines, while others seem to have more of a purpose.

Rather than writing journal entries, she expresses her feelings through those of fictional characters.

Edward is snapped out of concentration when Bella sits down next to him.

"Still think my incessant rambling is interesting?" she asks. She puts her chin on his arm and looks down at her journal. "Oh man, I wrote that when I was fifteen. What was I even talking about?"

"You tell me."

Bella shakes her head. "Who knows? I was broody."

Edward smiles. "You had good reason to be. You were quite the caged bird back then." He sticks his finger into the page so he doesn't lose his spot. "How are things back in Forks?"

"Good, I guess," Bella says. "They're counting down until I'm home for Thanksgiving."

"You don't sound particularly enthused."

Bella shrugs. "I'm not big on holidays. It's always really quiet in my house. Christmas, too. We don't exactly have a big family. Dad said not to come for Thanksgiving because it wouldn't be worth the long flight, but I can't do that. I can't leave them alone on Thanksgiving."

Edward puts his arm around her, kissing her temple. "You're a good daughter."

Bella snorts, glancing down at her phone when it buzzes again. "Charlotte wants us to-" She cuts off, blushing.

"What?"

"She wants us to hurry."

"You're blushing. What did she really say?"

"Oh my god." Bella hands him the phone and covers her face, falling backwards onto the bed.

_**Duuuuude…. I don't mean to cockblock, but quit being frisky and get your butts down here! They've got these half-naked boys in speedos and it's SO BAD. You have to see it! Hurry! - C xo **_

Edward looks down at Bella, at the sliver of stomach that's visible from her slightly disheveled shirt. He slides a finger across it.

"I like being frisky," he murmurs.

Bella traps his hand, smirking. "You used to be so innocent, Edward Cullen."

Edward laughs, raising a brow. "Innocent? Me?"

Bella rolls her eyes and stands up. "We should head to Sadie's. Where are my shoes?"

As she rummages through her belongings, Edward gets up and moves to place the journal on her desk.

A sudden, nagging curiosity gets a hold of him and he ends up flipping to the very last page.

To her last entry.

It's dated May 13th, 2007.

The day after he left three years ago.

There is only one sentence on the page, a messy scrawl in thick black ink.

_**He was the soil.**_

"Are you ready?"

Bella's arms wrap around him from behind, and the question dies on his lips before he can ask it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Give me yo' thoughts! I missed your voices.

_Frisky_ is a robin's egg blue by ORLY.

Oh my gosh, you guys, have you noticed the new cover for this story? It's fan-art based on Chapter 20 ("Wild Thing"), made by **sparklevamp. **I'm obsessed with it! She's so talented and I adore her.

So, I know exactly what I'm doing with the next few chapters, so that means no writer's block for me. I'm excited! I highly doubt that you'll have to wait another month. I frequently mention the progress of writing on Twitter, so come stalk me on there if you feel so inclined. :)_  
><em>

Until next time!

xo


	23. Clutch Me If You Can

**A/N:** Epic fail, you guys. I know. I spoke way too soon. Are you still with me? If you're reading this, you must be. So thank you so much for being here! Life, you know? It interrupts the fun things.

**Pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove **are the bestest for putting up with me and my wordiness.

Also, it might not be a bad idea to go back and skim the last chapter...

Onward!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23: Clutch Me If You Can<strong>

The day Bella must leave campus for Thanksgiving break is a gloomy one at best.

The cold, rainy weather is a direct reflection of her somber mood, nature choosing to mourn her temporary loss of college life.

"Thanks for the ride, Em," Bella says, climbing out of the car. "And thanks for not killing us on the way."

"Oh, come on," Emmett protests. He opens the trunk and pulls out a small purple suitcase. "I was barely pushing 60!"

"In a tiny college town, you psycho!"

"Admit it. I just gave you the ride of your life." He smirks, setting the suitcase on its wheels with a flourish.

Bella rolls her eyes, trying not to laugh as she grabs the handle. "See you after Thanksgiving, okay?"

The lobby of Edward's apartment building is familiar to her now, as is the walk to the elevator. She must have taken it dozens of times over the past few months, enough times to safely do it with her eyes closed.

The elevator doors chime as they open on Edward's floor, and Bella steps out, resisting the urge to skip cheerily to his door. His apartment is at the end of the long hall, and she walks quickly, overcome with girlish excitement.

Her happy bubble bursts only seconds later, when another door opens and unleashes Irina.

Both girls freeze in their tracks and stare at each other in surprise.

Bella instantly feels sick to her stomach at the sight of Irina, and she feels herself blanch. After weeks of perfect avoidance, the inevitable was bound to happen. Bella can't believe she forgot that Irina lives on the same floor as Edward. Nevertheless, she's not ready for this.

Irina's face is blank as she eyes Bella from head to toe, a seemingly bored look on her face. But when she meets her gaze, her eyes are flashing with hostility.

Bella sucks in a deep breath and looks away, clenching her jaw. Edward told her that she shouldn't let Irina intimidate her, and she mentally repeats his words like a mantra.

Thankful for the wide hallway, Bella steps to the side and walks past Irina, half expecting to be tripped or grabbed. When Irina doesn't say a word and doesn't move, the relief Bella feels is sweet… but painfully brief.

"Hey."

Irina's voice sounds like ice, sending an unpleasant jolt through Bella. She turns slowly and warily, preparing herself to stare down the barrel of a gun.

Irina has her arms folded over her chest, but she is projecting discomfort rather than hostility.

"Do you have a minute?" she asks reluctantly. The words are forced, as though she must push them through a verbal barrier of hatred.

Bella looks away uncomfortably. "I actually have a flight to catch, so…"

"I'll be quick," Irina adds hastily, but there is an air of annoyance in her tone.

Bella is in no mood to hear anything Irina has to say, but she finds herself realizing that it's probablybest to get this conversation over with.

Bella shoves her hands into the pocket of her sweatshirt and waits. She hopes her expression looks expectant and not like she's about to cough up the contents of her stomach.

Irina blows out a puff of air and opens and closes her mouth twice before actually speaking.

"Look," she says matter-of-factly. "I don't hate you, if that's what you're thinking." Bella's look of disbelief makes her continue hastily, "I don't. I hate what you did to him."

Immediately, Bella's stomach sinks and she doesn't feel mentally or emotionally ready for this conversation. Nevertheless, a flare of anger shoots through her.

"I get it," Bella says sharply. "I get that you care about him, and I get that you don't want to see him get hurt again, but _please_. Please don't act like you know the whole story, and don't act like you know what we went through."

She is a ticking time bomb, all of her feelings towards Irina pushing words out of her mouth with enough passion and hurt to heat the space between them.

Irina looks surprised. "I'm not doing any of that."

"You are," Bella argues. "It's so blatantly obvious. The dirty looks you give me, the way you keep trying to get him to change his mind-"

"I'm making sure he knows what he's doing," Irina says defensively. "It's my job as one of his best friends, especially considering that I'm the one who fixed him."

Bella flinches. "He didn't need fixing. He was hurt, but he wasn't broken."

"Really?" Irina says, raising a brow. "Because 'broken' is the word he used."

The words sting, but Bella tries not to let them faze her.

"All I need to know," Irina says, "is that you're not going to hurt him again. That's all."

Bella opens her mouth to say she won't, but something stops her.

How _does_ she know? How does she _really_, truly know that something won't happen that would cause either of them to be hurt again? How does she know they'll last forever?

The truth is that she doesn't. She has no way of knowing.

But one thing that she does know, down to her very core, is that she loves him.

She loves him harder than she ever thought it was possible to love someone, and she'd do anything to show him that.

"There will be moments," Bella says, "where we will fight and say things we don't mean and get mad at each other. There will be moments that are really tough. But we love each other, Irina, and you need to understand that our relationship is none of your business. I hope you understand that."

The silent moment stretches on, and Irina stares at her for a long moment. Eventually, her shoulders drop in resignation. "That's a lot like what Edward told me."

"That's because we feel the same way about this," Bella says, crossing her arms. "You need to respect that."

Irina opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

Bella turns to see Edward stepping curiously into the hallway. He freezes when he sees the two girls, his eyes flitting between them with concern.

"I thought I heard your voice," he says to Bella, although his slightly narrowed eyes are on Irina. She stares back impassively.

The moment Bella sees Edward, her entire body relaxes and she momentarily forgets Irina's presence. His arrival erases every worry and anxiety from her mind and fills her with an incomparable sense of safety and security.

It's easy to smile at him, and he looks away from Irina to smile back.

"I was just about to knock," Bella says.

"What stopped you?" he replies, and he glances at Irina again. There is something accusatory in his gaze.

Irina rolls her eyes. "Don't give me that look. I didn't leave a scratch."

Edward scowls, and Bella cuts in, "We just had a chat. That's all."

She takes his hand, feeling oddly empowered doing so in front of Irina. His shoulders relax at her touch.

Holding his hand only makes her feel stronger, and much easier to say what she says next.

"I hope we understand each other, Irina. This was the only time I'm ever going to have this conversation with you."

With that, Bella pulls Edward into the apartment and shuts the door. She sags against it, feeling drained of energy.

"That went well," she says sardonically.

The worried crease between Edward's brows doesn't disappear, and he continues to search her face in concern.

"I'm okay," Bella assures him, wrapping her arms around his torso. "We were civil. I told her to back off, and I think she gets it."

"Huh…"

Bella looks up at him, chin on his chest, and watches his eyes narrow in suspicion. "That was too easy."

"Let's not talk about her now. My flight leaves-" Bella pulls away and groans when she sees the clock in the kitchen. "Way too soon. Damn it, Irina."

"I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up this morning," Edward says regretfully. He runs a hand through his wet hair. "My alarm couldn't pervade the depth of my dreams." His eyes suddenly shine with new emotion, the bright green reminding her of sunshine filtering through a canopy of leaves.

"I dreamt of you," he says, smirking slightly_. He needs a haircut,_ Bella thinks distractedly, pushing locks off damp hair off his forehead.

"What did you dream?" she asks. "Was I doing something stupid?"

Edward shakes his head, still smirking, and shrugs. "I wouldn't classify it as stupid. _Uninhibited, _perhaps." He eyes her for a moment. "When does your flight leave?" he asks urgently. "Six?"

Bella barely finishes nodding before Edward sticks his fingers into her belt loops, walking backwards and pulling her with him.

"Where are you taking me?" Bella asks with a laugh.

"Bedroom," Edward says nonchalantly. "I'm curious as to whether or not I can transform this dream into reality."

His words make Bella's stomach flip flop with nervous excitement. Being this way with him always does, always manages to push _just_ the right buttons.

Edward kisses her when they reach his door. "I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I miss you already."

Bella smiles sadly. "It's only for a weekend. It'll fly by. I promise."

Edward smiles, pulling her by the belt loops again. "Bella Swan: forever the optimist to my realist."

"Someone's gotta keep a balan- hey!" Bella laughs as Edward tosses her onto the bed. He grins and straddles her, one hand by her head and the other on her hip.

"What was that you were saying?" Edward teases. "Someone's got to keep a balance? You seem to be _severely_ lacking in that area."

Bella rolls her eyes, smiling to hide how much his confidence turns her on. Edward reaches down and kisses her neck, and it takes everything in her to push him away.

"We don't have time," she says sadly. She winds her fingers in his soft hair, still slightly damp, and breathes in his clean scent.

Edward glances at the digital clock on his nightstand. "Let's see," he says. "Your flight leaves at six, right? That means we have approximately twenty minutes to make out, ten to make ourselves presentable and get down to the car, an hour and fifteen minutes to drive to the airport, all with time to spare for airport obligations and goodbye kisses."

Bella raises a brow in skepticism. "Sometimes I wonder if you're actually able to calculate this stuff, or if you just make it up as you go along."

Edward pretends to look offended. "Are you questioning the level of my intelligence?"

"Me?" Bella touches a hand to her heart in mock surprise. "Why, I'd never!"

Edward narrows his eyes and leans in, his face so close to hers that her eyes cross. She sticks her tongue out, making a goofy face.

"Eighteen minutes remain," Edward says in an ominous tone. "Our lips must reunite immediately."

That's the only cue Bella needs to reach up and press her mouth against his. Their kisses are soft but passionate, the gentleness of lovers savoring every last moment.

Suddenly, the reality of their impending separation hits her. Bella can't imagine being away from this for three days, can't imagine not tasting and feeling him for that long.

"I don't want to leave," she says, the words coming out in whimpers against the assault of his mouth.

"Then don't."

"I have to."

Edward is the one reassuring her now, "Three days. Seventy two hours, more or less. You'll survive. Not sure I can say the same for myself…"

"I'm going to have withdrawals."

"Don't worry about that now," he whispers against her collarbone. "I'm here now."

He's here.

He's here, and he's everywhere.

Bella gets lost to the feel of him against her, how the fabric of his clothes rubs against hers in the most teasing manner.

Suddenly, with her impending departure looming over her, Bella is consumed with desperation.

She crashes her lips against his with a force painful enough to make him wince as their teeth collide. Ignoring the throbbing in her lips and gums, she grabs two fistfuls of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

Her mouth ravages his with an incomparable violence that just barely expresses how much she needs him. Leaving him, leaving _this_, becomes an unfathomable thought, a thought so excruciating that tears prick at her eyes.

Edward pulls away from her, gasping, and stares down at her. His lower lip is swollen and his eyes are pools of the most enticing mixture of lust and worry.

"You okay? Why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

The second she says it, she feels wetness crawl down her temple.

"Goddamnit," Bella says, shoving the heels of her palms into her eyes. "Something is wrong with me."

Edward pulls her hands away and leans his forehead against hers. "Stop thinking about it."

_Stop thinking about it stop thinking about it stop thinking about it stop thinking about it…_

Pushing the thoughts aside at the same time she pushes herself up, Bella suddenly finds herself straddling Edward.

Maybe if she sits on him, he can't get away.

This is a new position with an interesting vantage point, Bella realizes. Being on top of him is exciting in different ways, but she doesn't have the time or patience to give it much thought.

Now, she's just going to savor every minute she has left with him.

Leaning down, with her hair working as a curtain around their faces, Bella kisses him as slowly and as deeply as she can. Edward's tongue pushes against hers, tentatively at first, but growing in urgency by the second.

His body is firm underneath her, and she squeezes his hips with both her legs, so tightly that she can feel his hipbones pressing against her. He reaches up and cups the back of her neck, kissing her with equal fervor, their breaths coming out in short gasps.

Edward's fumbling fingers find their way to the waistband of her jeans, and he hooks them inside, anchoring her closer to him. The way his fingers push into her abdomen makes her instinctively squirm for friction, and Edward groans.

"Fuck," he gasps, and Bella pulls away for airs. "You can't… just _move_ like that. I mean, you can, by all means, but… you shouldn't. Fuck."

Hearing him swear makes Bella squirm again, and Edward's second groan makes her blush embarrassedly.

"I'm sorry!" she says, sitting up straighter. "I didn't realize..."

Edward shakes his head, face flushed, and reaches up to curl his hand around the back of her neck again. "Come here," he murmurs. "I only have you for so long. Let me savor it."

Bella is on her back again, her stomach exposed to Edward's mouth. He leaves a wet trail along her navel, but it feels warm rather than cold.

One finger is hooked in the waistband of her jeans again, except this time his hook has captured the top of her panties as well.

That finger, that lone finger against her bare abdomen, is all she can think about.

"Edward," she whispers. He looks up, lips swollen, hair disheveled, and she can't help but think she'd do anything with this boy. "I want you to do it."

Edward's brows furrow for a moment, and to prevent further confusion, Bella reaches down and unbuttons her jeans.

Edward looks down at where his finger is and licks his lips, looking up at her again.

"I'm not sure what you're asking," he says quietly, and the mixture of excitement and fear in his eyes is breathtakingly beautiful.

Bella bites her lip and unzips her jeans all the way, before taking his hand and clumsily trying to slip it under her jeans.

She hears Edward's sharp intake of breath before he shifts suddenly, pulling himself up so that he's leaning on an elbow beside her. His hand remains right on the edge of where she wants it, and she lifts her hips, wanting more.

"A word of warning," he says in a raspy voice. "I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing."

"That's okay."

Anxiety causes Edward's smile to be short-lived, but with his eyes never leaving her face, his hand slowly slips into the space between her panties and her jeans.

Bella closes her eyes at the teasing sensation of his hand against her sex, and even though he's only touching her through her panties, she feels them start to wet. How she can react that way when he's barely touched her is a mystery to her.

"Do it, please, just do it," she whispers, eyes still closed.

Edward's fingers stroke her softly through the cotton of her panties, and she can feel his hand trembling. Every time his fingers pass over her clit, she inhales sharply through her noise _(nose?)_ and wonders how the lightest touch can feel so torturously good.

Edward's fingers travel from her clit to where her behind rests on the bed, and she lifts her legs, bending her knees to offer him more space.

She can't hold still for more than three seconds before she lifts her hips again, wanting more.

Always more.

"Does that feel good?" Edward asks, and his voice is a whisper against her cheek.

"Mmmhmm." Bella nods, swallowing. "Go under?"

Edward pauses for a moment. "Open your eyes."

Bella opens them and blinks in the light. She almost gasps at what she sees in his eyes.

Red-hot, blazing lust, warmth, and so much love that the sight of it steals the breath from her lungs…

Edward searches her gaze for confirmation, and Bella nearly combusts with the anticipation. Her heart pounds with adrenaline and it's the only thing she hears until Edward finally slips his hand under her panties and presses it right against her wetness.

Bella jumps and gasps in surprise, the feel of his skin touching such a sensitive part of hers igniting her like a live wire.

She bites her lip, breathing shakily, and squirms a little bit. The added pressure on her wet skin makes her suppress a moan, and Edward swallows audibly.

Slowly, he moves his fingers up and down her slit, torturously slow, and she gets wetter by the second. In her head, years of conditioning tells her that this is wrong, but she doesn't understand how something so wrong could feel so perfect.

Her clit, only used to her rougher, more urgent touches, begins to ache and burn with the sensitivity. She feels it swell, every nerve snapping to attention.

"More," she whispers, and Edward's finger begins to stroke faster, up and down.

"Wait." Bella reaches down and gently nudges his hand away, showing him how she does it. She places two fingers on her clit and rubs in steady circles. "Like that."

Edward licks his lips and nods determinedly, forever the eager student. He mirrors Bella's movements and she finally lets out a little moan, a sound so sweet that Edward closes his eyes.

Without stopping his ministrations, he places his forehead against her shoulder. Bella reaches up and gets another hold of his hair, her breathing picking up.

"God, I've wanted to touch you for so long," Edward whispers hoarsely. The statement makes Bella gasp in pleasure and roll her hips towards his hand. This simple act alone feels so depraved, and yet it only fuels the fire burning through her.

Once she begins to feel the steady buildup in her abdomen, the delicious tightening of her muscles, she holds her breath and clutches Edward's hair so tightly that he groans.

All the tension in Bella's body is released as she buries her face in Edward's neck and lets out one choked up, shaking, desperate moan of pleasure. Trembling and panting and convulsing, Bella lets her head fall back as she bathes in the after affects of the orgasm, of Edward, of everything that just happened.

Edward says something, mumbles it really, but she's too far gone to know what he says. It sounded like "stunning", but it could have been "sunny" or "stutter."

Or "slutty".

And just like that- shame.

Shame, cold and humiliating, poisons the adrenaline running through her veins. She looks down at Edward's fingers, at her soiled panties and her bare skin, wet and sticky, and feels her face heating.

"Don't," Edward's voice is firm, but his expression is gentle. He strokes the hair off her forehead and kisses her nose. "This was perfect. Please don't regret it. Don't regret how I made you feel. Thank you." Bella smiles, tears stinging her eyes, and says nothing. Words never seem like enough, so she hopes he can see her love for him in her nearly pained expression.

"Besides," Edward asks, eyes glinting playfully. "You're even more beautiful when your brain switches off."

Bella wipes her nose on her sleeve and stares at him in confusion. Lately, that's the only cue Edward needs to explain himself.

"During a woman's orgasm, activity in several parts of the brain drops dramatically. Especially areas that involve alertness and anxiety, like the amygdala or hippocampus. It's why your mind goes blank in that moment."

"What about men?" Bella asks, and her gaze drops to the bulge at the front of his jeans. She reaches down, hand still trembling slightly, and rubs the back of her knuckles against it.

Edward inhales sharply. "Brain activity doesn't drop as much. Then again, male orgasms don't last as long."

Bella is filled with the resolve to please him like he pleased her- she wants to learn.

Too shy to meet his gaze, she touches him through his jeans again. Just her fingers, barely stroking the enticing bulge.

"Show me," she says, but it sounds like a question.

Edward looks down at where her hand is and sighs before looking at the time. A pained expression crosses his face and he wrinkles his nose. "Maybe another time."

Bella lifts her head and looks at the clock, shrieking in horror. "Shit! My flight!"

"We'll make it, we'll make it," Edward assures her as they hustle to their feet.

Bella frowns as she shoves her shoes on. "I'm sorry I'm always doing that to you." Her eyes are on his bulge, and Edward shrugs.

"Is it terrible for me to say that I'm almost used to it?"

"Not helping," Bella mumbles. "This is, what, the third time?"

Edward laughs. "That you know of."

* * *

><p>Saying goodbye to Edward at the airport isn't the hardest part.<p>

The hardest part isn't being on the plane, away from him, with the knowledge that she's going to be all the way across the country from him in a matter of hours.

The hardest part isn't when the plane is in the air, when she looks out the window and sees the earth passing below her, signifying the separation.

The hardest part of all is when Bella lands in gloomy Forks, the place where it all began and the place she ran from.

Her spirit is only lifted when she sees her father, waiting outside the terminal with a tender smile on his face.

"Hi, Dad," she says, hugging him tightly. "You look so much better."

"Time heals all wounds, huh?" he says, smiling and taking her suitcase. He appraises her from head to foot, nodding in approval. "You do too, kiddo. I was half expecting to see you starved."

Bella laughs as they walk out to Charlie's car. "Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure I gained the Freshman Fifteen."

Climbing into the car, Bella remembers to inform Edward of her safe landing.

_**Just landed. Headed home. Miss you xo –B**_

_I miss you, too. Try not to go insane over the next few days, okay? –E_

_**Haha. Not likely. When are you leaving for Chicago? –B**_

_Soon. I'll be thinking of you. –E_

"Bella?"

Bella starts slightly and looks up, chagrined. "Sorry. What did you say?"

Charlie frowns at her. "I asked how your flight was."

"Oh, it was good," Bella says. "It felt longer than it was." She doesn't mention it was because Edward wasn't next to her.

In fact, she doesn't know if it would be a good idea to mention Edward at all. Over the past few months, she never paid much thought to what her parents would think about their relationship.

It doesn't help that his reputation started out as being less than favorable, especially after Bella confessed about their friendship, crying in the backseat of their car. Their idea of him may not have changed over time.

But she can't hide it, not forever.

Just as long as possible.

She mentally reminds herself to talk to Edward about it as soon as the opportunity arises.

As they drive down the familiar streets of Forks, Bella is filled with a heavy melancholy. These streets have too many memories, and not very happy ones.

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, telling herself to keep the past in the past. She's not very likely to see anyone she doesn't want to see, and the only person who mattered is finally hers.

As they pull into the driveway of their little home, Bella's eyes don't land on her own house.

They land on the brown and white house on the right, the cold home with the darkened windows.

For the first time in a long time, she wonders about Alice.

Renee rises from the porch swing as soon as they pull into the driveway, smiling when she sees Bella.

"Hi, honey," Renee says, pulling her into a tight hug. "I missed you so much. Doesn't it feel good to be home?"

Bella smiles and turns to take her suitcase from her dad so that her mother wouldn't be able to read her face.

"Sure does," she lies. "I'm not used to how quiet it is here anymore, though."

"Yes, well, it's not exactly a bustling university," Renee says, smiling.

Bella sighs with exhaustion, collapsing onto the couch. Her pocket buzzes with a new text, probably from Edward, but she resists the impulse to look at it.

"God, I'm freaking tired," she says, stifling a yawn. "We're not doing anything today, are we? I need a nap." She closes her eyes and leans her head back into the soft leather of the couch, sighing again.

When she opens her eyes, her parents are giving her a peculiar look.

"What?" she asks, frowning.

Renee and Charlie exchange a glance before simultaneously brushing her off with shrugs and dismissive gestures. Disturbed, Bella stands up and grabs her suitcase, eager to lug it upstairs.

* * *

><p>Bella feels different when she steps into her old bedroom. Even though it's only been a few months since she was last in here, she feels like it's been ages.<p>

She's a changed person, a new person, and the room suddenly feels foreign.

Bella places her suitcase on the bed and slowly walks over to the window seat, pulling the curtain aside. The blinds on the window across from hers are up, and she sees part of a crib.

That house, that cheery yellow house, is no longer familiar to her. Not when the inhabitants are strangers, and most definitely not when the person living across from her is a baby girl and not an awkward teenage boy.

Bella is overcome with a rush of nostalgia, and her mind flashes back to window-notes and tree aerobics, tossed jellybeans and waves behind windowpanes.

She would give anything to relive those moments, except she'd do them right the second time. She'd see him for what he was, see their friendship for the potential it truly had.

Heart aching with the thought of Edward, Bella texts him with renewed fervor.

_**So, I'm standing at my window seat and trying not to cry like a baby. Do I win the world record for the most 'I miss you's sent via text message? –B **_

"Friends?"

Renee's voice makes Bella whirl around, and her mother grins from her spot against the doorjamb.

"Oh, yeah," Bella says, smiling at her phone. She quickly pockets it, hoping her expression doesn't give anything away.

"You look different," Renee observes. "You've filled out."

Bella squirms uncomfortably under her mother's gaze and laughs awkwardly. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No, silly," Renee says in a chiding tone. "You just look… not how you used to." Her gaze becomes piercing and Bella becomes paranoid. She fidgets with her phone, wondering if what she did with Edward is evident on her face.

Does she look older now, more womanly? Or maybe her slight shame and guilt is clear in her expression. Maybe she looks like she's hiding something.

"I missed you around here," Renee says softly. "I was so anxious the first few weeks. You didn't call enough." She frowns scoldingly and then pauses, as though waiting for an explanation.

"I know," Bella says regretfully, sitting on the edge of her bed. "It just got really busy the second I arrived. Settling in, starting classes, making friends… it was overwhelming."

"You made good friends, I hope?"

Bella nods, smiling. "Really good friends." _And a boyfriend._

"Tell me about them," Renee suddenly says, sitting next to her daughter. "You barely mentioned them when you remembered to call."

"Oh," Bella says, taken aback by her mother's sudden interest. "Um, well, there's Charlotte, my roommate. I've mentioned her before. She's very excitable. Fun. Artistic, of course. There's Rosalie. She's really sweet. Very athletic. Gorgeous." Bella hesitates. "Then there's Jacob and Emmett and Peter…" She says the names quickly, not knowing how her mother, as uptight as she is, would react to her having male friends.

Edward's name gets stuck in her throat.

Bella's phone buzzes, but she ignores it.

Renee purses her lips. "Huh. Are they… nice boys?" Her smile is strained and Bella sighs.

"Yes, mom, they're awesome. If you have something to say, you can say it."

"It's just hard," Renee replies immediately. "Having you so far from home, not knowing if you're safe or if the people you spend time with are good influences, or if you're eating right and sleeping enough… I know you're an adult, and I know you are perfectly capable of making your own decisions, but I still see my little girl when I look at you. I still want some say in the things you do." Renee shakes her head. "Charlie says I'm being unreasonable, and I know that, but… I'm not used to it, you know? I just pray you'll make the right choices."

"I'll be fine," Bella reassures as her phone buzzes again.

"Who is that?" Renee asks. "That thing's been going off since you got here."

Bella's stomach flips and she shrugs as casually as possible. "I'm being missed, that's all." She feigns a dramatic yawn and Renee stands up.

"Well, I'll let you nap," she says. "But I want you to help me prepare some things for tomorrow's dinner, okay?"

Bella nods in compliance and lets out a relieved breath when she's left alone.

She knows she won't be able to hide Edward for long.

* * *

><p>Bella pulls into the parking lot of Thriftway, and stares at the grocery store through the windshield, not looking forward to having to go inside.<p>

Upon waking up from her nap, she'd bustled into the kitchen in time to hear Renee complaining about forgetting to buy a few things for Thanksgiving dinner. Frazzled, she handed Bella the car keys and ushered her out the door.

Silently praying that she won't run into anyone she knows, Bella takes a deep breath and resolves to be in and out as fast as possible.

The aisles of the grocery store are still familiar to Bella, familiar enough for her to expect to zip through the aisles and finish by seconds. However, it appears as though half of Forks has decided to wait until the eve of Thanksgiving to buy their ingredients.

Pushing through crowds of people and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, Bella hastily searches for a jar of poultry seasoning. Craning her neck around other women to find the brand her mother told her to get, she snatches up the right one and hurries out of the congested aisle.

Juggling all her items in one arm and looking down at the list she quickly scribbled up, Bella focuses less on walking and more on item-scratching.

"Shit! Sorry!" She bumps into someone and curses as the jar of poultry seasoning drops from her pile and rolls across the floor. She chases it as carefully as she can, watching as it rolls in between feet and gets kicked around.

Finally, the jar rolls to a stop at a pair of blue and white Nikes, the owner of which reaches down and picks it up. He holds it out to her and Bella sighs graciously.

"Thank you so mu-"

Her words cut off abruptly and she comes to a halt, almost dropping the rest of her things in the process. Her blood runs warm, horribly warm, and she wants to turn on her heel and run.

Because noticing her at the same moment she notices him, and staring at her with an expression of surprise and mild discomfort, is none other than Ben Cheney.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Am I mean? I'm mean. All that time, and I leave you with a cliffie. It had to happen.

_Clutch Me If You Can _is a deep, dark burgundy from Essie. It looks purple. It is not. It's one of those deceptive colors that look totally different in the bottle.

So, I'm going to be pretty busy for the next two weeks, so there most likely won't be an update before then. However, I PROMISE I will still be writing whenever I can and** hopefully** there won't be a horrendously long wait. I'm gonna try my best.

Stay safe, lovely people.

xo


	24. Pink-ing of You

**A/N:***hangs head in shame* I spoke too soon last time, didn't I? Epic author fail. Anyway, it may not be a bad idea to go back to the last chapter and refresh your memories. If you're reading this, it means you've stuck around, so thank you! I mean it.

As always, I would suck monkey balls if it weren't for **pinkaquaclouds **and **lyleslove. **They deserve all the awards for their patience with me. For serious.

Hopefully this one is worth the wait! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24: Pink-ing of You<strong>

The silence only lasts a total of six seconds, but it seems to stretch on for hours.

Hours of Bella and Ben staring each at each other as a million different emotions pass across their faces. They mirror each other's shock and embarrassment and horror and guilt. Bella keeps glancing away, searching for an escape, and Ben keeps rubbing the back of his neck.

Bella realizes that Ben is still holding out the jar of seasoning for her to take, and she reddens.

"Thanks," she mumbles.

Ben nods, blue eyes looking everywhere except at her, before he finally settles his gaze on a spot above her shoulder.

"It's been a while," he says casually. The words are forced. He doesn't want to make small talk any more than she does.

"It has," Bella responds, occupying herself with the items in her arms.

"Do you want some help with that?" Ben points to the load in her arms.

"Oh no, I'm fine."

More silence.

"So, uh, how are you?" Ben asks. "How's your Dad? I heard he hurt his foot."

"He's good. That was a while ago. I'm good, too. We're all... good."

Bella cringes at her awkwardness, but Ben surprises her with a small smile. It's charming; just like she remembers it. But this time, instead of charming her, the smile bothers her.

Why does he smile? Better yet, why does he look at her like _that?_

"What?" Bella asks, the irritation just barely evident in her tone.

Ben shakes his head distractedly. "Nah, it's nothing. You look good, by the way."

Bella's eyes narrow as she tries to figure out if he means it. She _really_ looks at him, and realizes that he, too, looks good. More than good. He's more muscular than she remembers, slightly unshaved and rugged. His eyes are still as blue, though they look tired, but there's too much gel in his hair.

Sure, he's still handsome in a conventional, movie actor kind of way.

But the appeal is gone.

As handsome as he is, he's not her type and never was.

"Thanks," Bella says, smiling. She glances down at her arms. "I should really get these emergency items home..."

"I guess I'll see you soon?" Ben isn't looking at her again, but at the edge of a magazine rack that seems to interest him.

"Sure."

It feels like the weight of an elephant has been lifted from her shoulders when they finally part ways. She can't make it to checkout fast enough, nor can she walk any faster to the car.

As she peels out of the parking lot, Bella lets out a sigh of relief.

She wonders when she's going to stop running away.

* * *

><p>The screen of Bella's phone illuminates the inside of her makeshift tent, and she buries herself deeper under the covers as she calls Edward.<p>

Curling onto her side, she listens to the phone ring on the other end, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She needs to hear his voice.

"_Hey."_

The smile that spreads across Bella's face is instantaneous. "Hi."

"_How was your day?"_ Edward asks, chuckling. The sound of his voice is a lot deeper on the phone. Bella likes it, and she subconsciously rubs her thighs together.

"It was all right," she replies. "It feels so weird being back... I miss you."

Edward sighs. _"So much, Bella. So much."_

"How's everything in Chicago?"

"_Hectic. I'm glad for some peace and quiet. It's so good to hear your voice."_

Bella hums in agreement, closing her eyes and rolling onto her stomach. She remembers talking to him like this before, back when they were in high school. It really wasn't that long ago, and yet it feels like it's been ages.

"Remember when we used to do this?" Bella asks in a whisper.

"_I do,"_ Edward says quietly. She hears rustling on his end, probably bed sheets. _"Quite vividly."_

"Doesn't it feel like it's been a decade?"

"_It does. I like this better, though. I like what we have now."_

"Except you were closer before," Bella says wistfully. "Only a window away..."

They fall into a nostalgic silence, embellished with nothing but the sound of their breathing. Bella listens to Edward's even breath, in and out, and allows it to lull her. Her eyes are beginning to droop when he speaks again.

"_When do you suppose we should tell our parents?"_ he asks.

The question renews Bella's alertness. "About what?"

"_Us."_

Thinking about it makes Bella cringe. She has no idea how her parents would react, not just to having a boyfriend at college, but that boyfriend being Edward. An atheist sexologist's son, and the boy she'd sat crying in the back of her parents' car for. Confessing their secret friendship and her inadvertent infidelity with Ben.

Something in her told her that her father would be reasonable.

Her mother? Not a chance.

Bella lets out a whoosh of air. "I'm nervous."

"_I think my parents already know,"_ Edward adds. _"They don't know who... but they've always been annoyingly observant."_

"Ugh, mine too," Bella says. "They noticed me texting all day. It even felt good to get away and go to Thriftway."

Thinking of Thriftway reminds Bella of Ben, and she flushes with the memory.

She can't hide this from Edward, as much as she wants to pretend it never happened.

"So, I ran into someone there..." She trails off, biting her lip and hoping he'll use his genius to figure it out from the tone of her voice alone.

"_Alice?"_

Bella frowns. She didn't think Alice would be the first person to pop into his mind.

"No… Someone else."

"_Well, judging by your anxious tone and reluctance to just outright say it... Benjamin Cheney."_

Bella sighs. "Bingo."

Edward groans, and she hears him rustling around, probably sitting up and rubbing his face in annoyance.

Bella burrows herself deeper under the covers and letting her tired body sink into the mattress.

"_Please tell me he was gentlemanly, although I doubt it. I don't believe he's capable of anything but Neanderthal behavior."_

"It was really awkward. Painfully awkward. I wanted to disappear."

"_Did you talk much?"_

"Nothing past the formalities."

Edward pauses. _"... How did you feel? Other than awkward?"_

It feels like a loaded question, and Bella pauses to wonder what he _really _wants to know.

"I don't think we talked long enough for me to feel anything other than desperation to get out of there..."

Edward is silent, and Bella wants into his head.

"What?" she whispers.

"_I just wonder, sometimes..."_

"Wonder what?"

They're both speaking in quieter voices now, though there's no reason to. It feels safer and more intimate this way, like they could reveal their deepest secrets without actually facing them.

"_Forget it,"_ Edward says. _"I'm reverting to my old, insecure teenage self."_

Realization dawns on Bella.

"Don't," she whispers. "It's always been you, Edward. Always."

He sighs. _"I know. I'm being illogical."_

"You? Illogical? Impossible."

Edward chuckles, and the deep, rumbling sound gives Bella goose bumps, even in the warmth of her blankets. She rubs her thighs together again, and her hand slips between her legs. It sits there, unmoving, as she listens to him.

"_I have my moments,"_ Edward says, and she can hear his smile. In that moment, she wants nothing more than to see it.

More silence, and then Edward speaks quietly.

"_I can't stop thinking about yesterday..."_

His voice is a quiet murmur, barely audible through the phone, and yet she feels his words on her skin, as though he'd reached out and touched her.

"Me too," she whispers, and now she's aware of the hand between her legs. She doesn't move it, though she aches.

"_I keep thinking about how amazing you are,"_ Edward says. _"I'm addicted to the memory of how beautiful you are when you..." _He trails off, his breath hitching, and takes a deep breath.

Bella already knows what he's thinking, and the memory comes back to her in a flood of vivid images and bated desires. Only half aware of what she's doing, she strokes herself through her sleep shorts and longs for how Edward's hands felt on her.

"Mmm," she hums, and hears Edward's intake of breath. "That was fun."

More rustling on Edward's end, and then a sigh. She thinks about how much she loves him and how much she wants to do that for him. Please him the way he pleased her.

She doesn't know if her courage comes from being hidden under her blankets or from not having to show her face, but what she says next makes her feel bold.

"I want to do that for you," she murmurs. "I want to make you feel good. I want to touch you."

She blushes when she says it, but not from coyness or shame. Her face is warm with desire, and she wonders how she turned into this girl.

Edward is silent, but she can hear a change in his breathing.

"_Bella?"_ he says after a moment. His voice is hoarse. _"Do you want to... come with me?"_

If it weren't for his husky tone of voice, Bella wouldn't have understood what he meant. But she is now acutely aware of the hand she has between her legs, and there is no doubting the meaning of his words.

"Okay," she whispers, her heart beginning to pound.

"_Can you imagine me lying with you?" _he asks. _"Touching you like I did before?"_

Bella nods, eyes closed, but then realizes he can't see her. "Yes."

"_Imagine me doing that again. Except… except we're not wearing anything."_

Bella stifles a whimper. "I just want to feel you. I want you in my hand. I remember how good you made me feel, and I want to do that for you. I want to watch you react to me, like how you watched me."

Bella marvels at how it feels to say this to him. It doesn't feel dirty or wrong. It's quite the opposite. Telling him how she wants to please him nearly feels natural, like it's supposed to be this way.

And it is.

It only takes a few more minutes of whispering to each other for Bella to be touching herself with fervor. His voice and his words nearly drive her insane with need, this need that he sparks in her with his words alone.

She hears his sounds and she wishes she could see his face, watch him close his eyes or bite his lip in pleasure. But she can't.

She can't watch him; she can only imagine. So she imagines his face and his broad shoulders and his strong hands, and she touches herself to these images, lets them fuel the fire beginning to burn at her core. She's so needy for him in this moment, so completely lost to the memory of him, and her next thought comes with such aching clarity that she surprises herself with it.

_I want him inside me._

Before she knows it, she's panting, and the phone drops from her hands as she loses herself to the movement of her wrist. She loses herself to the slow, steady building in her abdomen, suddenly the only thing that matters.

She whimpers and then bites her lip, barely managing to choke out Edward's name, broken and barely audible, before she moans into the pillow and shudders.

Glistening with sweat and coming down from her high, Bella laughs in disbelief. She covers her mouth and laughs some more before picking her phone up to make sure Edward is still there.

His heavy panting on the other side is all the answer she needs.

"Wow, huh?" she giggles, and Edward laughs as well, sounding more relaxed.

"_Well,"_ he says, probably smiling. _"That escalated quickly."_

"I really love you," Bella says, grinning stupidly.

"_I return the sentiment,"_ he says, sounding sleepy. "_Uh…"_

"What?"

"_Need to change..."_

Bella's eyes widen before she giggles nervously. "Should I call you tomorrow?"

"_Don't go..."_

She glances at the clock. "It's almost one in the morning. I have to be up in six hours to help Mom with Thanksgiving things..."

Edward sighs. _"I'm greedy for you."_

When they finally hang up, fifteen minutes later, Bella stares at the ceiling in a daze.

For the first time since coming back to Forks, she feels carefree and happy.

For the first time, she's not dreading Thanksgiving.

* * *

><p>Thanksgiving morning, Bella wakes up to blindingly bright sunshine and good morning texts from Edward.<p>

She can't quite put into words how much she misses him. She's already counting down until the moment she lands in New York and into his waiting arms.

"Smells good already," Bella says, walking into the kitchen. "How long have you been up?"

Renee is already slaving away at the stove, and she wipes her forehead with the back of her arm.

"Five," she replies. "Breakfast?"

"I can make it," Bella says, grabbing a box of pancake mix from the pantry. "Why did you have to be up so early?"

"There's a lot to make," Renee states matter-of-factly, and she seems thoroughly distracted. "You might have to run back to the grocery store, actually; I don't know if we're going to have enough mashed potatoes."

Bella frowns. "Why do we need so much if it's only the three of us?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Renee says, still distracted as ever. "We've got guests coming over tonight."

They're interrupted by Charlie's entrance, and Bella is unable to get any answers before she's handed the car keys once again and ordered back to the grocery store.

The second she returns, she hasn't put the grocery bags down for two seconds before she's rounding on her mother.

"Who's our guest?" she asks, pushing down the bad feeling in her gut.

Renee, who had been putting something into the oven, calmly shuts it and turns to face her daughter with a deep breath.

The bad feeling at the pit of Bella's stomach intensifies as Renee eyes are warily, the smallest hint of regret in her eyes.

"Now, try not to overreact," Renee says.

"Tell me," Bella says, and she feels like she already knows the answer.

"The Cheneys have had a tough year-" Renee begins, and Bella can barely hear the rest. She turns towards the counter and places her elbows on the counter, bending forward with her face in her hands. Her mother's words are incomprehensible to her as horror and anger wash through her.

"You knew," she says, straightening and cutting Renee off. "You knew what happened with us and you still invited them?"

"That has nothing to do with it," Renee argues. "For God's sake, Bella, don't be so selfish. The Cheneys are the only family we're very good friends with, and we decided it would be nice if it was more than just the three of us this year."

Bella is seething, and is confused about whether or not she has a reason to be. Surely, her parents had to have considered her past with Ben before they decided to invite them.

Charlie walks into the room carrying a box of fancy china they keep in the attic.

Bella rounds on him. "Did you know?"

Charlie freezes, staring wide-eyed. He gives Renee a chiding look.

Setting the box down on the counter, Charlie gives Bella a pleading look.

"We didn't know if you were going to be coming, honey. We invited the Cheneys a month ago."

Hurt flashes across Bella's face. "Why?"

"We didn't think you'd want to come from so far for so little time," Charlie explains. "New York is far, flights are expensive..." He shakes his head in apology.

"But Mom insisted," Bella says in confusion, looking at Renee.

"That's right," Renee says. "I wanted you here, honey."

Bella sees Renee's words as having a double meaning. A new realization dawns on her with horror and she sees red.

"You're trying to set me up."

She gets no immediate response.

Charlie looks thoroughly displeased, and frustration courses through her like fiery lava.

"I cannot believe this," she says, shaking her head in disgust. "I-" She opens her mouth, almost saying she already has a boyfriend, but snaps her mouth shut.

Instead, she whirls on her heel and stalks upstairs, ignoring their protests and explanations.

In her room, she yanks her phone out and dials Edward, growling in frustration when he doesn't answer. When he doesn't answer the second time, she sends him an urgent text.

_**SO PISSED. Call me as soon as you get the chance. -B**_

She sits on the edge of the bed and puts her face in her hands, wondering how she's going to make it through the night.

* * *

><p>Edward's call never comes, thanks to a dying phone battery and a day out with his family, but his later texts manage to prevent Bella from pretending to puke so that she won't have to join the others.<p>

Instead, she digs through her suitcase and pulls out the clothes she'd brought for Thanksgiving night. The pale pink cardigan and white tank top suddenly seem too girlish, too casual, yet she can't figure out why it matters what Ben thinks of her.

Deep down, she realizes that it _does_. The slightly immature part of her wants to look irresistibly good - so good that Ben wishes he'd treated her right when he had the chance.

With a jolt, Bella realizes that Ben never treated her _wrong_. He just wasn't attuned to her needs, simply because he'd been too young and immature. That was not his fault.

Nevertheless, Bella wants to be different when she sees him. She doesn't want to be the doe-eyed little girl from high school or the awkward girl from the grocery store. She wants to be the confident young woman that college and her friends have made her - all she has to do is look the part.

Approximately an hour later, finishes setting the table when the doorbell rings. Her stomach twists with anxiety and she peeks out the dining room window, though she can't see much.

Voices echo from the foyer and Bella takes a deep breath, reminding herself of Edward's encouraging words. She's not going to overthink this. She's going to be herself and not allow her emotions to get the best of her.

She plasters on a smile and steps into the living room, her eyes landing on Ben right away. He looks extremely uncomfortable as he shakes hands with Charlie, and his discomfort increases when his eyes land on Bella.

He looks good, Bella grants him that. He wears a brown, button-up shirt that manages to emphasize his blue eyes, and dark jeans.

"It's so nice to see you again," Mrs. Cheney says, surprisingly pulling Bella into a hug. Caught off guard by the tightness of her grip, Bella widens her eyes at Ben, who shrugs apologetically.

Ben walks over to Bella but keeps his distance. "I wasn't kidding when I said I'd see you soon," he says, laughing nervously and rubbing the back of his neck.

Bella raises a brow. "You knew?"

Ben frowns. "Knew what?"

Bella stares at him, newly aware that Ben had been in on the whole thing. Apparently, she'd been the only one who hadn't been previously informed about this "surprise" visit.

Pushing down the irritation she feels at her parents, Bella goes into the kitchen and helps her mother bring everything to the table.

She's not surprised that she very conveniently ends up sitting next to Ben. The tension between them is painfully awkward, and they sit stiff in their seats. Bella can see from her peripheral that sits rigidly, his fists curled tight in his knees.

_I don't want to be here, either, buddy, _Bella thinks. She wishes it were Edward who was sitting next to her.

"So, Ben," Renee says, smiling as they all load their plates with food. "How's school? You're up in Seattle, aren't you? And captain of the soccer team, I hear. That must be exciting."

Ben fidgets with his fork. "Uh, yeah, I am," he says. "And it is. I've always loved soccer. That's not really a secret." He chuckles slightly, but the sound is strained.

Renee looks far too interested. "That's wonderful." She pauses, glances at Bella. "Bella was thinking about joining a team, weren't you Bella? Maybe you could offer her some advice."

Bella frowns at her mother, shaking her head. "I don't… I never said that."

"Of course you did," Renee says, giving her an imploring look. "On the phone a few weeks ago. You said you weren't getting much activity at school and that you wanted to join a team."

Bella suddenly remembers the conversation, but her mother is still way off base.

"I think I said I wanted to try Zumba," Bella says.

Ben laughs. "That's not a sport, Mrs. Swan."

Renee looks putout, but Bella knows she's pretending. "Oh. Well, then."

Bella shifts in her seat, repressing an annoyed sigh. If this is the way her mother is going to behave all night, she'd rather fake an illness and go hide in her room.

Her phone buzzes in her back pocket and she discreetly checks it under the table, breaking the No Cell Phones at the Table rule.

_Are you alive, or have you died from horror? –E_

Bella bites her lip to stop herself from smiling and takes a few bites of food to keep up appearances before she responds.

**_Just barely surviving. Mom is going to be the death of me. –B_**

Throughout the dinner, Bella's mind is only half aware of what is being spoken around her. She falls into a familiar state of daydreaming

"I believe the wedding is in June," Mrs. Cheney says, sipping her wine. "It's about time, too. Honestly, with Mike's promotion at work and Jessica graduating, there's no better time. Mrs. Newton is over the moon."

Bella snaps out of her reverie at the familiar names. "Mike and Jessica from high school?" she asks.

"That's right; you two did go to school together," Mrs. Cheney says, smiling at Bella and Ben.

"I didn't know they were still together," Bella adds, and the surprise in her voice would be insulting to Mike and Jessica, had they been there.

"It's rare, isn't it?" Charlie says distractedly, digging into the dessert. "High school couples rarely last through all four years."

Silence.

The tension and awkwardness between Ben and Bella intensifies and everyone looks everywhere except at the kids who long to disappear.

"Life goes on," Mr. Cheney says, giving Bella a sympathetic smile. "You meet new people."

"Speaking of," Renee begins, looking at Ben, and her smile fills Bella with dread. "How about you, Ben? Anyone special at college? You're a handsome boy – you must get many admirers."

_Oh god, _Bella thinks. _Don't go there. Please don't go there._

_**CODE BLUE! CALL ME AND SAVE ME. –B**_

Ben laughs awkwardly and plays with his fork. "Well, kind of." His smile is a little smug and Bella tries not to grimace.

Some things don't change.

"But no, no girlfriend," he states, nodding.

Renee looks at Bella again, and Bella widens her eyes in warning. Renee gives her an innocent look before smiling at Ben.

"That's a surprise," she says.

"It's for the best, I'm sure," Mrs. Cheney says. "Gives more time to focus on school, isn't that right, Ben?"

Ben flushes slightly, glaring at his mother. "Sure." Clearly, his academic standpoint is not very good.

"Most people meet their spouses in college, they say," Mr. Cheney joins the conversation.  
>"That's where I met Sarah." He smiles at his wife. "That's where Charlie and Renee met as well. College is <em>the<em> place, they say." He nods. "It's a fact. I think there are studies."

Bella shifts in her seat as she remembers something Edward told her. She can't help it.

"Actually, that's not true," she corrects, looking at Mr Cheney. She's been so quiet throughout dinner that her voice feels too loud. "While many people do meet their spouses at college, there's no conclusive evidence that says it's the most common place. You can meet the person you're going to marry anywhere. It's not science; it's chance."

Everyone stares at her, and she flushes, taking a sip of her water.

Mrs. Cheney clears her throat. "I'm guessing you haven't met anyone special at college, then?"

Bella feels her face heat up, and if the redness in her cheeks isn't a dead giveaway, she doesn't know what is. She can feel her parents' gaze burning a hole into her forehead and she downs her glass, her brain whirring with something to say.

"I've met many special people at college," she says evasively. She doesn't want to lie. Lying about Edward's existence feels like an insult to him.

"I'll take that as a no," Renee says, but her eyes pierce Bella's so intensely she expects her vision to blur. She turns to Ben's father. "Deacon, what was that thing going on down at the church tomorrow? Some kind of a Fall Festival?"

"Oh, yes. It's a carnival, set up by the Youth Group for charity."

"Remember when you two were in Youth Group?" Renee asks, eyes flitting between Bella and Ben. They briefly side-eye each other and nod. "You two should go together. It would be fun."

"It would be," Mrs. Cheney agrees, smiling. "I mean, it wouldn't hurt. For old times' sake."

Bella feels like her dinner is going to come right back up as she shakes her head. "I-I can't," she stammers. "I should pack to go back to New York…"

"You don't leave until the day after tomorrow, there will be plenty of time," Renee argues. "It would be fun."

Bella looks at Ben, hoping he'll also make some excuse, but he stares back at her, pensively. She gives him a questioning look, horror filling her as she puts a name to the look in his eyes.

Consideration.

"I really can't," she begins again, but Ben cuts her off.

"Why not?" he asks, shrugging.

Bella stares at him incredulously. "Because… I just don't want to?"

"That's no excuse," Renee says.

"For God's sake, if she doesn't want to go, don't force her," Charlie says, and Bella could have leaped across the table and kissed him.

"I don't see why not," Renee says.

"It's for a good cause," Mrs. Cheney pipes up.

"It's in the afternoon," Mr. Cheney adds his two cents, and Bella can't take it anymore.

She feels trapped, like the walls are closing in on her and Edward is standing in front of her, taking up most of the rapidly diminishing space. She realizes her love for him is stronger and more important than keeping secrets from her parents.

"I don't want to," Bella says loudly, overpowering their needless persuading.

"Bella-" Renee begins.

"NO." She slams her fork down, fed up. "I have a boyfriend! Okay? I. Have. A. Boy. Friend."

Silence.

Renee gasps.

Charlie drops his fork.

Ben looks away.

His parents stare, openmouthed.

"What?" Renee asks, looking confused.

"His name is Edward Cullen," Bella says confidently, and saying his name makes her feel stronger. "You might remember him. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She stands up, dropping her napkin on the table and exiting the silent dining room and stepping out onto the porch.

The cold wind is refreshing, and she realizes how hot it was inside. The heat, however, had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the hot emotions that had been coursing through her – irritation, anger, embarrassment, stress, disbelief…

Longing.

She sits down on the porch swing and wraps her arms around herself, letting the nighttime chill settle into her bones and distract her from what she'd have to face one she went back inside.

Light from inside the house suddenly illuminates the porch and she glances up to see Ben step outside, holding her phone.

He hands it to her. "You left this on your chair."

"Thanks," Bella says, and she looks away, hoping he'll take the cue and disappear. She wants to call Edward.

Ben hesitates, and Bella looks up expectantly. The light from the living room window illuminates his face, and his expression is one of uncertainty and regret.

This is not the confident Ben she once knew.

Everyone does change after high school, after all, she thinks.

Ben stares at his feet. "So… is this the Edward from high school?"

Bella glances up at him, giving him a funny look. "Yeah. What's it to you?" Her tone is a little more defensive than it needs to be, but she can't help it. She'd taken enough crap from Ben to last her a lifetime.

"Just curious," Ben says nonchalantly, shrugging. "Doesn't surprise me."

Bella narrows her eyes at him. "And why is that?"

"He was crazy about you."

"Still is," Bella says, looking away. She says it with conviction and smiles. There's no doubt about that.

"You were pretty crazy about him, too, huh?"

She glances up at him again, confused. "Ben, what are you doing here?"

She doesn't just mean here, on her porch. She means here, at her house, and here, in front of her. Talking to her and asking her questions about Edward as though he actually cares. As though he ever did.

Ben turns away and faces the street, hands in his pockets. He takes a deep breath and is silent for a moment, a moment long enough for Bella to notice how grown up he suddenly looks. Old, and aged, and he can't be older thane twenty-one.

"I'm not really supposed to be here," he admits quietly. He turns towards her again, pauses and then steps forward. "I was with my mom when your mom asked her over for Thanksgiving. I wasn't going to be here – I couldn't get off work. But then my mom asked your mom if you would be there, and she said yes, and… I dunno, I was curious. Talked to my boss. Something in me just… resurfaced. Is that the word?" Bella nods silently, eyes wide. Ben pauses and looks away, and Bella's heart begins to pound for an unknown reason. "You just, you've changed." He looks at her, eyes her from head to toe. "Everything about you is different. Better."

Bella frowns. "Should I be offended?"

Ben shakes his head. "Nah, just… You look good. When I saw you at the grocery store, I wondered if we could… start over."

Bella lets out a giant whoosh of air. "Ben…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "You two were always all up in each other, even when we were together."

"Only because…" Bella trails off, biting her lip. _Only because you weren't giving me what I needed, _she wanted to say.

"Because what?"

She shakes her head. "Never mind."

There's silence between them, and she doesn't know if this is supposed to be a moment of closure or what.

She thinks back to the moment it all fell apart – when Ben walked in on her touching herself – and cringes.

She hopes he'd forgotten that, though it's not likely.

It was the most action Ben ever got, and he wasn't even a part of it.

"I'm just over it," Ben mutters, shaking his head. He sounds like he's talking to himself.

"Over what?"

"The girls," he says, shrugging one shoulder. "The cheerleaders, the party girls, the girls who throw themselves at me."

Bella raises her brows. "I don't know. That sounds pretty awesome for a college guy."

Ben snorts bitterly. "It was for a while, but it's getting old."

"You want commitment," Bella says, and she tries to not to laugh.

"Is that so crazy?" Ben asks, and it doesn't sound like a rhetoric question.

"It's not," Bella assures him.

"I think you were the only… _sweet _girl I ever dated. The only genuine girl."

Bella doesn't know what to say. She's flattered, but also terribly uncomfortable.

"Anyway, I kinda wanted that back," Ben admits. "It's clearly not going to happen now…" He stares at Bella expectantly, almost like he's waiting for her to disagree with him, or change her mind.

Instead, she shakes her head, smiling ruefully. Ben nods in understanding. "Didn't think so." He glances at his feet before turning towards the door.

"I guess I should go back in." When Bella doesn't respond, he hesitates for only a second, opening his mouth to say something. He shuts it instead, shaking his head before entering the house again.

Bella takes a deep breath, not knowing what to make of the situation. Was that supposed to be closure? It certainly doesn't feel like it. The very thought that Ben would want to be with her again seems unfathomable. Then again, the idea that his desire to "start over" became a conviction when he saw how good she looked ruins it.

Bella's phone buzzes and she answers it within seconds. "Hey."

"_Why did you Code Blue? What happened?" _As concerned as he sounds, Bella can't help but relax at the sound of Edward's voice. With a sigh, she lapses into telling him the story, choosing to step off the porch and wander into the backyard so that she won't be overheard.

She doesn't know how long she spends talking to him on the phone, but by the time her parents start calling her name, her fingers feel frozen and she's shivering.

Still clutching her phone to her ear, she takes a deep breath and stares at her house.

"I'm kind of scared to go in and face them," she admits, teeth shattering.

"_Is that your teeth? You should have worn a jacket."_

Bella rolls her eyes, but smirks at his disapproving tone. "I didn't know I was going to get annoyed and walk out of their in a huff."

"Bella!" Renee's voice comes from the open kitchen window and Bella sighs again.

"_I'll tell mine tonight," _Edward tells her. _"You go in there and tell yours, and I'll tell mine right now."_

Bella doesn't know why her eyes tear up at that. She tells herself it's the cold. "I can't wait to see you." In that moment, she wants nothing more than the warmth of his arms.

"_I concur," _Edward whispers. _"Now go inside before you get in trouble."_

"Okay."

"_Also, please don't fail to remember that I love you."_

After goodbyes that are longer than they need to be, Bella pockets her phone and crosses her arms across her chest. She stares at the back of her home, wondering if the Cheney's have left, or if they've stayed to watch her impending doom.

Either way, she has to steel herself for a slew of irrational comments from her mother and vaguely phrased, though blatantly doubtful, questions from her father.

Squaring her shoulders, Bella walks towards the house with determined steps, thinking about her liberated she'll feel once it's over.

But for now, she's ready to face the music.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**My lips are sealed this time. Life hasn't cut me a break over the past few months and I can't say for sure if it'll stop kicking my butt anytime soon. However, I will say that I haven't forgotten about this story and I will finish it. I swear. I just need to stop making deadlines that I'm not sure I'll be able to meet.

Thank you guys so much for being patient and understanding. I'm not going to let you down with this story, I promise. I'm always thinking about it and I _**do**_work on it when I can. Stick with me through the end?

_Pink-ing of You _(how adorbs is that?) is a dull pink by OPI.

See you next time!

xo


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